Partners
by hmsbeta
Summary: AU: What happens when Rorschach teams up with Laurie instead of Dan? Spanning several years, pre-Crimebusters to 1969. Eventual Silk Spectre II/Rorschach romance. Rated for language, brief descriptions of violence and sensuality.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Watchmen or Alan Moore.

Author's Notes: I'd been struggling for a week to come up with a healthy combination of the graphic novel and the movie, especially when it came to the slightly different timelines. I finally decided that creating my own timeline would be for the best. Please treat the story as AU -- so if some events end up out of sequence, or some people aren't the right age, it's because I'm not following the main timeline(s). Though I am vaguely following the Watchmen storyline, I see several possible outcomes to my story, and none of them will be near the original endings. If I would have to choose, I would probably say the story followed the movie more closely, however. I hope none of this is annoying or too confusing. Parallel dimensions are fun! :)

Also, I would like to take the time to mention Silential, an amazing author whose own Watchmen fic (currently still ongoing, Dreamless) inspired me greatly. Reading her story really made me want to get back into the world of fanfiction again. Thank you for your wonderful work, Silential!

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**Partners**

Ch. 1

It had been weeks since Laurie first started out, but nights like this especially, she felt ridiculous.

Usually her rounds ran through areas that were low-traffic, but tonight the streets were full of people. Though mostly they paid no attention to her (ones with clean consciences seldom did), occasionally someone would look up and gawk and she would feel self-conscious all over again. She took a side street into a residential area she was unfamiliar with. This street was empty and silent apart from the low hum of traffic in the distance and the hollow bark of a stray dog. Laurie sighed.

Walking at a brisk pace she tried to stay alert, keeping an eye out to the bushes and dark corners, but she was distracted. Finally, she stopped and looked down at her outfit, running her eyes down the black and deciding it wasn't the suit itself but the scarf that made her out of place.

Laurie had been training most of her life to become a masked crime fighter. It was her mother's dream to mold her daughter in her image -- a well known image that would soon be revealed to the world, reinvented.

"When you are older -- seventeen or eighteen is probably ideal," her mother had told her about a million and one times. Laurie didn't understand the necessity for theatrics or this proposed date, as if she would suddenly emerge into the world a superhero the moment she reached a certain age. Laurie hated being paraded about by her mother, and she especially did not understand her way of thinking when it came to her taking her mother's place.

At age seventeen or eighteen, Laurie was expected to appear in her underwear and dazzle everyone. Laurie was surprised her mother hadn't hired her an agent already, so parallel was her life to her mother's younger days. "But better!" her mother liked to insist. See, her mother never had the privelege of getting the best training and conditioning and mentoring, or any other positive word with a participle attached (her mother had used all of them to describe how wonderful Laurie's life was compared to her own). Still, that was two years away -- who knew what her mother had planned in the meantime. Things could be worse.

Even so, Laurie would have none of it. For the better part of last year she had contemplated running away. Though the longing kept her from facing the reality of the situation for many months, finally she had to give in to the fact that she had nowhere to run to. Laurie was incredibly sheltered and had no friends, no family apart from her mother and a maiden aunt of whom she had heard of but wasn't close to. Of course, her mother's old friends -- fellow crime fighters from back in the day. At some point Laurie was so desperate she imagined going to one of them; the remaining ones at least. A couple of years back a few of them had visited her mother. Three older men that were vague father figures, more distant uncles with whom she had no kinship. She tried to think of how it would pan out if she appeared on one of their doorsteps: Nite Owl, Captain Metropolis, even the crazy Mothman.

No, even the Mothman would call her mother in an instant. She couldn't run away.

Nevertheless, the prospect of becoming a carbon-copy of her mother was distressing to Laurie. Laurie was still young and wished to please her mother in some way, though in another way she stubbornly wanted to show her mother how displeased she herself was. Crime-fighting, the career chosen for her, seemed inevitable, and she did the best she could to mold the unpleasant outcome to her liking.

Laurie surmised that given the almost obsessive way her mother had tried to manipulate every small detail in her life, any equally small detail that went wrong would be enough to annoy her mother. Foil enough of the details together, and she was almost certain she could somehow drive her mother crazy.

Laurie's mother wanted her daughter to be the next Silk Spectre. What if Laurie went out and made a name for herself as a crime fighter -- but with a different identity? Laurie had laughed when she first thought of it. In her mind she saw headlines: "THE GREAT CRIMEFIGHTER" they would read, though she hadn't thought of a name for herself, so the rest would be up to the imagination -- Not-Silk-Spectre -- "THE GREAT CRIMEFIGHTER TAKES DOWN THE INFAMOUS MOLOCH" or insert any other prevalent crime boss or hazard to humanity. The headlines didn't matter. What mattered was the picture. Yes, the press would find her and take her picture and her mother would read it and she would know. Making a big name for herself, Laurie would become a crime fighter independent of her mother, and her mother wouldn't be able to say anything about it.

This amusing passing fancy became the primary focus for Laurie. She began to obsess over it as almost as much as her mother did over her own life and Laurie knew then that she had to try it or regret it for the rest of her life. She put on a simple leather body suit that covered her throat all the way to her ankles. On her feet she put practical black boots, then she finished the ensemble with a scarf to cover her eyes. She had cut holes to see of course and braided the ends into her hair, which she then pulled back to prevent her mask from slipping off. She looked in the mirror and felt foolish. But how much more foolish would she feel when she was wearing practically nothing? No, it wasn't original but it was simple and she didn't want anything gaudy. Nothing that would bring too much attention to her -- not until she had made a name for herself.

That first night she had stepped outside, Laurie wasn't exactly certain as to what her goal was. How did crime fighting work, exactly? From the stories she heard, crime fighters seemed to just instinctively know where the "bad guys" were. The only thing she could remember at the time was one of Nite Owl's animatedly detailed stories of his adventures and going over the words and gestures he used to describe his exploits she couldn't help but wonder if her mother and her friends were all just pulling her leg about the whole rotten business.

Laurie stepped out cautiously, feeling awkward at first, though relaxing a little as the night wore on. When the moon came out and darkness prevailed, so did the stranger entities of New York's harsher streets. Though the first night Laurie was only getting her bearings, she saw the silent, wary way some people looked at her. Even though they had never heard of her, never seen her until this day, her mask said something to them. They just seemed to know what Laurie was up to and would disperse when she came near -- those who had something to hide, at least. Laurie felt pleased and convinced herself that it was all this easy. For the next few days all she did was patrol, relying on her presence to discourage any criminals that had the fortune of crossing her path.

Laurie became bored after a while, and she began actively searching around, letting her senses guide her. In the course of another few days, she was surprised to find that, what at first glance seemed to be rows and rows of quiet streets were silently teeming with a slow pool of illegal activity. Looking into the still water lairs of these alley-people -- almost shy in their regard of her, too compliant, too accomodating -- Laurie was shocked as she realized how far the murky depths reached. Dipping into the figurative darkness with a bare, unprotected arm she felt her hand give way to slime and filth, re-emerging to find it festering with boils and writhing with a thousand flesh-eating insects. That's what it seemed like to her: the prostitution, the drug-deals, the homeless, the careless violence that made simple murder seem polite and necessary. In these depths lay other things, things Laurie had within reach but did not dare grab at, and other things beyond her reach, so beyond the scope of her innocent imagination she felt like screaming just to think of them. Laurie turned and ran back home then and did not come out the next night.

Two days went by before she felt restless again and ventured out into the streets once more. She decided to stick to the bigger areas and not look too hard or think too hard about what she had -- or thought she had -- seen.

"Life is hard," her mother would say to her, over and over again throughout the years. Those were just words, though, without even images to provoke any sort of emotion in Laurie's mind.

Life is hard. Her mother had tried to show her without truly showing her. Without even elaborating -- giving no examples, those words meant nothing. Unprepared for the world outside, Laurie began to wonder just how her mother expected her to survive in a place like this. As a crime fighter no less! Bitterly she wished for once she could be like the normal children she heard of -- not even was allowed to talk to, just heard of -- children who went to public school, grew up, went to college, work and the other things that made them normal.

"No daughter of mine is going to get stuck being a housewife," was one of her mother's other favorite sayings. She would chew on the words as if she were reciting gritty titles of a trashy pulp fiction novel. _House. Wife._ Laurie had tried to explain to her mother once that she wanted to work with animals -- become a veterinarian. Her mother had scoffed. _What good would that do for the world_? She had asked her in that tone that implied that only mother knew best. (Silly daughter, your ideas are but fantasies, only my thoughts deserve any sort of merit, now did I tell you about the time I was a crime fighter?) Still, her mother had noted that it was a better profession than (_House. Wife._) what those "other girls" were striving for. Laurie suggested that she had two professions -- veterinarian, maybe eventually a wife? A working mother? Feeling generous Laurie even threw in the idea of crime fighting on top of it all -- a life of multiple interests, to appeal to all generations! _No_, her mother had said; that idea was shot down with such acidity that for a moment Laurie was afraid her mother would slap her.

No, no veterinarian for Laurie. Just a crime fighter. An idea so deeply embedded into the workings of her life that her only source of rebellion was to become a different idea of crime fighter than what her mother had in her mind.

Yes, Laurel Jane Juspeczyk felt ridiculous, but in some ways she was free.

At least, as free as she could get, providing her circumstance.

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To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2

He had been watching her for three weeks and two days.

When he first found her, she had been focused on crossing the street, eyes to either side of her but not behind. She was an ordinary young woman at first glance, though strangely attired -- in streets like these she didn't stand out too much.

Apart from the mask, that is.

The black material on her face barely covered her eyes, but to Rorschach, it was a mask nonetheless. Intrigued, he had followed her that night, though he felt cheated when all she did was walk fifteen blocks at a brisk pace before turning towards a house. Watching her retreating form he briefly contemplated following her, knowing quite well that if he did he would more than likely sate his curiosity. Instead he shrugged; if she was a mask, he would be sure to cross paths with her again. If not, then it was just another foolish young woman in the city and not worth his time.

He found her the next night, and the night after that.

She had two different routes that she would take on alternating days. To any random observer she looked like someone going for a walk, but to Rorschach she was all too obvious. She was patrolling, though doing an infuriatingly poor job of it. She shrank away from the darkness as if terrified that she would get sucked in and suddenly find herself entangled in the putrid affairs of the city's uglies. Rorschach gave a short, bitter laugh in his head. Correct sentiment, poor reaction. Turning from the ills of the city wasn't going to save her -- in order to stave off the filth she had to fight back, show it that it couldn't win. He would have been surprised if she lasted a week in this place. Keeping this deadline in his mind he followed her, allowing this morbid curiosity, this strange desire to see her swallowed up into this wretched sea of blood and sin. Then he would wash his hands of her.

A week later, she was still patrolling and Rorschach felt the whispers of mild annoyance tugging at him. He didn't like the way she walked. He didn't like the way she was working -- if you could call it working. Women didn't go out to pretend they were masks -- it was a man's job, afterall. Women didn't like the outside world, like the men did, though they liked to believe they did. No, this was ridiculous. Her attire, what she was doing, ridiculous. Her walk, especially ridiculous. He hated it. He hated the way she walked. Her attire was modest though close-fitting. The dark color helped her blend into the darkness, except for when she walked: her hips swayed with each step and sometimes they were all he could see, going back and forth with each forward movement. He would note the subtle fold of fabric across each ...part... of her hips, moving with her body to accomodate her steps and god he hated the way she walked. Just her hips, moving, just hips, no head movement, no turning to see, see behind her; oblivious to him, to everything. He was sure she was oblivious to the way she walked too, though inside he wondered if she knew he was there behind her, knew he was watching and was doing this on purpose. She must know he hated this -- her walk of all things but everything about this.

Why this? Rorschach had heard of other masks -- saw them once even, a young man who called himself Ozymandias, another who took Nite Owl's mantle. He saw them both at the same time. They were far away and conversing. Rorschach assumed they were forming an alliance, probably new Nite Owl's idea. Briefly he considered following them, let himself known, possibly join them. He dismissed the idea; maybe if one or the other but two? Too much hassle. He didn't like interacting with too many people at once. Even so, he respected them. They were masks too, brothers in arms. Men. Men went to war -- defended their country and women. Women didn't fight. They gave up too easily without men to protect them and provide for them. Women just didn't have the capacity for these things that came so easily to men.

The woman he had been following was now pausing at an alley, peering inside then quickly resuming her duties. Duties of what? As far as Rorschach could see, all she did was make the uglies nervous. But only temporary. As soon as she was gone they would resume their drinking and fornicating. Maybe she was waiting to join them. The whore.

A feeling curled upwards from inside him and he probed it tentatively. Guilt. No matter, Rorschach called them as he saw them. If he asked her she would confirm his suspicion. No need -- seeing the way she walked he knew he was right. Rorschach was always right about these things. Getting steadily more annoyed he continued to follow her. If he could speak to her he would demand to know why she was doing this. But Rorschach did not speak to whores. Disgusted, he began to turn away, desiring not even to see her fall to her eventual place in life. She stopped again, and peered into another alley. He saw movement from the shadows that wasn't her and she had spotted it too. She stood tense as if ready to fight, then recoiled as if stung as a prostitute emerged with a half-dressed man, both reeking of sin. The prostitute laughed, though something in her posture betrayed fear, especially when she looked back and saw Rorschach.

The mask-woman followed the whore's eyes and seemed surprised to find him there. Rorschach stood for a moment, strangely hypnotized, before he slipped into the shadows. When he was hidden enough he watched her again, and when he knew she was no longer looking for him he continued to follow her, though this time he was more careful.

She had been more cautious after that, taking care to look behind her in an almost religious routine. This sort of paranoia amused Rorschach and he would sometimes let her see him then quickly slip away, enjoying her skittish reaction and how nervous he seemed to make her. Sometimes he would follow her for long stretches in plain sight, a rolling sea of mirth bubbling up inside him as he watched her squirm. She would look back, see him, continue on and look back again only to see him still there. She would walk faster, change her route even, sometimes not show up a night, but he would always be there. Sometimes she would stop and wait for him as if for him to catch up, but he would slip into the shadows again and she would wait for a long time before resuming her walk. Rorschach never came too close, barely within shouting distance, even. He liked this new game and would play it for hours before she would get to that point where he would stop following her, three blocks away from what appeared to be her home. One night he watched her leave with exasperation, wondering what went on in the mind of a woman who, afraid of her stalker, ran so obviously to a home he could easily break into.

Did she realize how careless she was?

Did it matter? She was a woman and women by nature, were careless creatures. He wouldn't be surprised if she appeared one day, not in costume but in a dress too tight and too short to be appealing to anybody but the less decorous. She would appear in this attire meant to sell and find him. There she would beseech him to stop following her, she would give him anything if just to make him go away. She would get on her knees and look up at him, eyes dull and full of greed and lust and fear and she would expect him to use her like all the other men, because she allowed it. He would look down at her and she would wait for him to speak and he would let the silence build up, dense enough to choke her to tears of shame as the intent of her own spoken words sank into her cold flesh. Then he would turn away. She would know then that she wasn't even worth speaking to. Even animals were spoken to.

Rorschach vowed again that night to let the whore fall to her own doom. Yet, the next night he followed her, her routine as much as his now.

This night he realized he had been following her for three weeks. Two days. Same woman, patrolling the same way, though now she would turn back and regard him with such complacency that he grit his teeth in his annoyance. Even the sight of him, which initially had brought so much fear, had become so familiar that she hardly bat an eye in his direction. He wanted to shout at her, but women did not have common sense and what use would his words be to her? She would only continue on in her aggravating way of thinking and to hell with any logic or reason he could try to impart to her.

Even now, Rorschach could see the shadows creeping up and knew what was approaching but he didn't bother to warn her -- she could only find out for herself soon enough if she would open her eyes and truly see instead of just looking.

Four men approached her, the close proximity of their bodies creating a wall. Rorschach was too far away to hear what the first one said, but the second one said something that sounded like a proposition.

She was fast -- very fast. And strong. Even Rorschach was surprised. Only two seconds had passed since the man had uttered those words that had educed such a strong response from her and already he was sure she could handle her own against them. He was more concerned about the fifth one in the back she had failed to see -- the one behind her to the right, hiding in the shadows and watching for the opportunity to spring. Rorschach wouldn't have that. She had just finished off the fourth thug when she turned, a look of surprise on her face as he leaped past her and into the alley. Her eyes opened even wider as a man's body was thrown out of the same alley, only to land a few feet away from her. What had been a man a few moments before was now badly broken and obviously unconscious now. Rorschach emerged from the alley almost as simultaneously as when the body hit the ground. The woman regarded him with a new interest.

He was distracted by two things: the way she was smiling -- why was she smiling at him? -- and how remarkably young she looked. He stopped in his tracks, suddenly feeling cold as he realized she couldn't have been more than sixteen. She was just a girl -- a very young girl.

"You're a crime fighter too?" she asked him, voice surprisingly warm.

Rorschach struggled to respond but could not find words to give her. And it wasn't because he thought she was a whore -- no, she couldn't possibly -- she wasn't. She obviously wasn't. Nevertheless his mouth had lost connection to his mind and when he probed his brain all he could find were dark swirls of abstract thought and nothing else. Even his vision blurred for a moment and for a few odd seconds all he could see was more swirls, same as the ones that had invaded his mind, but in bright color.

Rorschach felt slapped back into his body when the girl started to laugh. For a moment he thought she was laughing at him, then he sensed the relief in the laughter and cocked his head at her.

"I saw you following me, all this time," she said, shaking her head. "I just thought... Well, now I see why -- I wish you could have said something; you were starting to make me nervous."

Why? She knew why?

He stared and felt like an idiot. No, Rorschach was never an idiot. He bristled, not liking how uncomfortable she was making him, and even now she was coming closer, that aggravating walk, with her big eyes and big... scarves.

"Didn't expect to see a woman out fighting," he said, straightening up and pulling a fraction of an inch away from her. If it was too obvious, she would notice.

She stared at him intently as if she didn't hear him, but finally, she shrugged.

"What better way to pass the time?" she asked, giving him an odd sideways stare that unsettled him.

Rorschach subconsciously took a step forward, then checked himself, took another step back. He took another step, then another -- soon he had turned himself around and started walking away.

"Hey!" the girl called after him, sounding frustrated. Good. "Where are you going?"

He didn't respond. He walked into the shadows, only turning when he knew for sure she couldn't see him anymore. She looked in his direction for a long moment before turning and walking home.

Rorschach watched her leave. Three weeks and two days.

Tomorrow would be the third.

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To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: I would like to thank my reviewers. I appreciate your kind words, everyone!

Vaudeville -- Thank you for giving my story a chance. I hope I do not disappoint. :)

MK08 -- Please write! I will send dogs after you if you do not post this story.

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Ch. 3

Laurie looked behind her, half-expecting the masked man to be there. Nothing yet. He was late tonight. Or maybe he was watching her from the shadows again. The thought always creeped her out, even now when she realized he was harmless.

Well, using the word harmless to describe the man seemed out of place. Harmless towards her, maybe -- perhaps not even that. Laurie shivered at the thought.

It had been a week since she had spoken to him. After that night she thought maybe she had spooked him away, but the next night he had resumed his old habit of following her and she accepted it. She had scoured the newspapers after they met, looking for any mention of him. She found a brief mention of Ozymandias one day, two articles on Dr. Manhattan. A whole mountain of crime reports. She was surprised by how much went on in the city. Briefly she wondered why nothing was being done when they had a man with god-like powers working for the country.

Laurie was also beginning to wonder what the point of costumed heroes was. She remembered how Hollis, after a few too many drinks and having lost his more optimistic edge had told her how a costumed hero was only good for fighting costumed villains. Her mother had shushed him after that, but Laurie couldn't help but agree. Why couldn't they all just train to become police officers? Join the military forces? Wasn't it their job to begin with? What kind of villain dressed up in costume, nowadays?

Exasperated, Laurie had searched the papers for any mention of "masked crime commiters" as she liked to think of them. Finally, in an obscure magazine, she saw headlines for "The Twilight Lady". Laurie thought the name was pretty, though when she found a picture of her she was reminded of her mother's old costume. Still, she was what she was looking for, and it was a woman, even. Laurie hadn't heard of any super villainesses. Were there even any during the Minutemen era? She made a mental note to herself to ask Hollis about it later.

The Twilight Lady. Laurie had no idea what she did that was bad. She was described as a vice-queen, and Laurie didn't know what that was. If she was making trouble, however, Laurie was going to find her and stop her. Unfortunately, she had no idea on where or how to start. She just hoped that by keeping an eye out for her, she would somehow stumble across her through blind luck or chance.

Laurie took a sharp intake of air as someone suddenly loomed next to her, quickly snapping her out of her musings. It was the masked man. She started to admonish him in her surprise, but he seemed to be trying to silence her with his arm, though he wasn't facing her. Confused, she looked ahead and saw two men struggling with a large crate. She had been so lost in thought she hadn't even seen them. She squeezed her eyes shut in shame, wanting to yell at herself for being so reckless. The masked man didn't seem to care or judge -- at least not right now -- he motioned for her to follow him into the shadows, where they silently watched the men unload the crate into a truck. The men turned and went into a warehouse. The masked man turned to Laurie.

"You may go now," he said in an authoritative tone while waving his hand at her as if dismissing a servant.

"Well thank you," said Laurie, putting her hands on her hips.

"Will take care of them. Safe for you to leave."

"Can't I help you?"

"No need. Two. Can handle."

The masked man turned and left before she could think of a suitable retort. Watching the man leave, Laurie couldn't blame him. Afterall, she hadn't even been able to spot the crate handlers. She wanted to kick herself for that. The masked man re-emerged from the building a few moments later, then cocked his head at her.

"Why still here?" he asked.

"I don't know."

Laurie turned and left quickly before he could interrogate her further. She had wanted to ask him if she could join him, but at the same instant realized that she really had nothing to offer him. She had no experience and would probably just give him trouble. She didn't like to work alone, but she wanted to prove her worth and catch the Twilight Lady. Then she could ask him.

Laurie spent the rest of the night actively searching. She now knew why the masked man hadn't followed her that night -- he was too busy with his own case. She stopped for a moment, realizing that he could have been on the look out for the Twilight Lady. He might even know something about her. Why didn't she ask? Laurie was furious at herself now. She almost went home for good that moment, her hands clutching at her face. When she looked up again, she was surprised to see three men arguing a couple of blocks down. Next to them was a crate. Intrigued, she came closer to listen in.

"...I'm telling you, he said he would be here."

"We've been waiting ten minutes, Jerry. We can't afford to wait any longer."

"What are we supposed to do with the fucking crate?"

"Just put it back and wait to hear from Hersch."

Grunting sounds.

"Christ, this is heavy."

"Just shut up and help me."

Laurie briefly contemplated beating them senseless, but she wanted to see where they took the crate. The men struggled as if the crate weighed several tons, but they managed to make it into a small warehouse marked "LD 7". The two men who had been carrying the crate panted and complained for a few moments while the third man looked around, briefly glancing down at his watch before shrugging. He turned to say something to the other two, but Laurie, having sacrificed her hearing for concealment, was unable to determine what was being said. The three men left. Laurie waited ten minutes before quietly making her way towards the warehouse. She looked around many times, though she saw no one. She imagined that somehow the masked man was out there watching her. She crept inside, finding hundreds of crates identical to the one the men were carrying. She walked to the nearest one and was able to open it after a few moments of struggling. Breaking it open would have been easier, but she didn't want the men to know she had been there. Inside the crate was packing straw and decorative wooden candle holders. Laurie was baffled. She picked one up and judging by how light it was, it was pretty cheap. All this secrecy over a few thousand candle holders, and they weren't even expensive.

Laurie paused, set the candle holder back inside, then stooped to pick up the crate. It was unbelievably light. Turning towards the other crates, she started to pick them up at random. All light. Half a dozen crates in, she found one that was almost too heavy for her to lift. Laurie opened the crate, and... more candle holders. She picked one up. Heavy. She turned it around in her hand -- there wasn't anything ordinary about it, just a normal candle holder. She tried to study it in the dim light, but couldn't find anything. She moved to a corner of the warehouse, where the moonlight was streaming in through a crack in the boards. She looked at it, inside and out. She found a seam. Using both hands, she twisted at the candle holder as if grinding pepper. It came apart in two pieces. The top piece was light, a solid piece of wood. The bottom piece was hollow inside and contained dozens of tiny pellets. Baffled, Laurie crouched down to bring the hollow piece to the moonlight. The pellets shone. She poured them out in her hand.

Gold? Whatever it was, it was strange. Laurie put the pellets back, thought about it for a moment, then took out one and put it in her pocket. She secured the lid back on the candle holder -- pellet holder? -- and returned it to the crate, then put the lid back on the crate. She took a last sweep around the warehouse then left as she came. She actively searched for the masked man.

After seeing him so often, Laurie thought she would run into her stalker easily. He wasn't looking for her tonight, though, and she couldn't find him. Laurie stayed out later than usual to find the masked man and cursed when he didn't turn up. Feeling defeated, she returned home. Maybe she would find him tomorrow.

Laurie was exhausted when she finally made it to her room, but she had to check on the pellet now that she had light. It was gold in color, though what its purpose was she had no idea. She rolled it in her hand for a moment as she thought. She was too tired. She gave up and went to bed, mind full of crates, pellets, and pellet holders. She dreamed of a giant golden hamster with a dish full of gold pellets and a wheel the size of a truck.

Laurie had become a nervous wreck by mid-day and the sun had barely set before she was out in the street again. She was excited and was sure she would easily find the masked man. Two hours later, she had a scowl on her face. She wished there was a flare she could put up, or some sort of signal. She stopped walking and started to wave her arms about as if trying to ward off a swarm of flies. Five minutes later, the masked man appeared.

"Why doing this?" he asked. He sounded genuinely baffled.

"Oh good, it worked," said Laurie, with a straight face. Unable to hold it, she started to laugh in disbelief.

The masked man stared at her in silence, and through his swirling mask she was unable to determine what he was thinking. This made her laugh harder. She tried to control herself but found herself unable to. Finally, she took out the pellet from her pocket, still laughing, and held it up.

"Unbelievable. Been using them?" he asked, voice cold and angry.

Laurie stopped laughing in surprise and turned to him while trying to wipe tears from her eyes without shifting her scarf too much.

"Using them? What do you mean?"

"Drug." he regarded the offending object she was holding up as if it were about to explode.

"Drug? It is? Oh... it is? I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Didn't use them?"

"No! The drugs? No I didn't I...You thought I was on drugs?"

The masked man drew himself up as she went into another fit of laughter. He regarded her as if offended, and she cut herself short.

"I... sorry, just that..." she laughed again. "Sorry."

Laurie bit down on her lip and looked at him with a somber expression.

"I'm sorry," she said, and she meant it. The last thing she wanted to do was make herself look like an idiot, but the very idea of her waving her arms like a drug-crazed lunatic while the masked man watched in a pose of utter indignation made her want to double up again.

Laurie turned red with the effort to stifle her laughter and the masked man finally gestured towards her hand, which was now clenched around the gold pellet.

"Found it? Where?" he asked.

"Oh," said Laurie, brightening. "After I left you yesterday, I saw some men with a crate--"

"Where?"

"On South and 7th, where--"

The masked man was already headed in the direction. Laurie had to run to keep up with him.

"So what are these drugs?" she asked him softly, though there was no need to lower her voice -- the streets were eerily empty.

"For the rich," he said, after regarding her for a brief moment. "THC compound."

"And people... eat these things somehow?"

"No." It sounded like he was smirking. "Inhaled. Used in Vapor Rooms.

"Oh." Laurie looked at the pellet again. She imagined smoky rooms full of basins of melted gold and rich, decadent crime bosses with expensive prostitutes dressed in furs, jewelry and leathers...

Laurie looked up.

"Have you heard of the Twilight Lady?" she asked.

He paused for a moment.

"Yes."

"Do you know where I can find her?"

He paused again, longer this time, long enough to make it seem like he wasn't going to reply.

"I wanted to take care of her," said Laurie. "You know, foil her plans?"

"Plans?"

"Yes," Laurie sounded impatient. "Do you know anything about her? You know... nature of her crimes and all that. I heard she was a vice-queen, but I honestly can't imagine... Well, what does she do with the vices?"

"Vices?"

"Yes! Vices! What are these vices that she uses?"

"Ah. Bondage. Domination. Sex."

"Oh..." Laurie was glad it was dark and he couldn't see her blushing. "Oh. I had... a different idea of what she did."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"What idea?"

"Nothing, it's really silly. Very silly."

"What idea?"

Laurie shook her head and looked down. When she had read the Twilight Lady was a vice-queen, she had imagined the sort of vice grips, used in hardware. No wonder she couldn't figure it out -- though with her wearing an outfit like that, how could Laurie have not thought of it? She shook her head again. So stupid.

"What idea?" asked the masked man, after a moment.

"Are you just going to keep asking that until I tell you?"

He didn't answer, but she somehow guessed that the answer was yes. She sighed.

"I was thinking of the vices you use in work shops... you know? Clamps? Grips?"

The masked man did not say anything, though a strange hissing sound was escaping from him. Laurie realized it was laughter.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"Funny."

"It wasn't a joke."

"Yes."

Laurie put her face in her hand. She was a walking comedic failure. Wonderful -- no wonder he followed her around. She was sure she provided him with barrels of laughs. She couldn't help but smile at the idea. Despite her disastrous failures at her attempts to impress her fellow crime fighter, Laurie felt happy. They were investigating these crates, with the strange drug that baffled her mind. Were they fighting partners now? Laurie wanted to ask, though it didn't seem like the right time. She also had no idea what his name was. She couldn't keep calling him "The Masked Man" in her mind. She looked at him briefly, though he had stopped walking and she stopped too. Up ahead was the warehouse she had found the night before, but now the doors were wide open. The streets were still silent. The masked man motioned for her to follow him once more.

Some things were going to have to wait. As Laurie crept forward, she couldn't help but feel excited. With a thousand questions in her mind, she readied herself for a fight with a smile on her lips.

-----

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Laurie's "Not-Silk-Spectre" name (not mentioning it here, if you don't know it already, you will read about it in this chapter) came from the character she was based off of, the Charlton Comics character that Alan Moore initially intended to write about (for those who don't know, he changed the characters around and wrote what we now know as Watchmen, instead). I just wanted to make the note just in case there was someone out there who thought I came up with her name out of the blue. :)

-----

Ch. 4

Even before they were near the doors Rorschach knew they were dead inside. That cold familiar air of death permeated thickly around the building and for a moment he contemplated turning the girl back away from it. No, it was a learning experience. If she wanted to be a mask, she had to see the face of the city. He walked inside, letting her follow closely behind him. She gasped and stopped in her tracks, momentarily stunned.

Two dead, three fingers with an unidentified owner. Rorschach noted that the fingers belonged to a left hand. Blood was everywhere, as if someone got bored after a shoot-out and finished it with a pig wrestling competition. Crates were smashed, and Rorschach found what looked like a poor attempt to start a fire. He shook his head. Amateurs. Probably a turf war over the illegal substances.

"What do you think happened?" the girl whispered, as she stepped gingerly around the pools of blood. With the amount there was, it was a helpless attempt.

"Rival gang."

Rorschach surveyed the crates, or what remained of them. Whoever it was had taken the offending crate with them. Judging by the corpses, they were there only minutes before. He made a frustrated sound and left the building.

"How many gangs are there?" she asked.

Rorschach looked at her. Stupid question. He almost asked her if she could count how many cockroaches there were in the city. No, she was just naive.

"Numerous."

The girl sighed and looked disappointed, somehow. Probably wanted a fight.

"Okay, fine," she said, half to herself. She looked up. "So, what's your name? I mean, your costume name, of course."

"Rorschach."

He waited for her to introduce herself and she looked down. Did she not have a name yet? And she was out fighting crime? Women. So careless. On second glance, she actually seemed embarrassed.

"Uhm... Nightshade," she said, looking at him almost apologetically.

"More drugs," he joked to ease her discomfort. She didn't get the joke.

"I don't do drugs," she exclaimed, arms folded over her chest. Women weren't known for their senses of humor.

He shrugged. There were more important things to discuss. Such as her motivations, her reasons for doing this work. He couldn't formulate the right words in his head so he gave up on that too. He heard something in the distance. Approaching tires. He motioned for her then crept into the shadows. She was obedient, at least.

The car, a black limousine, appeared around the corner only seconds later. It parked on the curb and an armed man got out, went inside the warehouse, and appeared after a few moments and re-entered the car. The car pulled away and Rorschach noted the license plate. The warehouse was burning in a matter of minutes. The warehouse didn't matter anymore, though. Rorschach directed the girl away from the fire as he led them into the back streets.

"What do you think that was about?" asked Nightshade.

Rorschach shrugged. It didn't matter because they would find out later. What mattered right now was finding the right person to answer their questions. They walked in silence and he let her go with him. Seeing the young girl wandering around the streets late at night made him nervous, and right now he couldn't afford to be in two places at once. It was better to keep her within reach for his peace of mind at least. They walked five blocks to the nearest bar. He started to go inside and she was right behind him. He stopped and shook his head.

"Underage. Can't go in," he told her.

"Seriously?" she sighed. "I'm not about to start on a drinking binge in there."

"Too young."

She folded her arms.

"With us dressed like this, I doubt the first thing they're going to ask is for my identification."

She had a point, still distasteful, though. He disliked arguing for the sake of argument so he allowed her inside. A few people looked up.

"May I help you?" asked the bartender.

Rorschach quickly scanned the interior. Nobody he needed was inside. He turned and walked out and went to the bar across the street. Nobody there either.

"So, I guess you're over eighteen then?" asked Nightshade with a strange smirk as they left their fourth bar.

Rorschach paused for a moment.

"Not going to bars to drink," he told her.

"Under eighteen?"

"Irrelevant."

She sighed.

Three more bars, and he found him. A man with three missing fingers from his left hand nursing a glass of some sort of hard liquor. Neither the man, nor the other patrons or bartender have a chance to react as Rorschach swooped down and grabbed him roughly by the neck and threw him out the door. Rorschach followed swiftly and Nightshade ran after him, eyes wide but smiling in disbelief.

"Owoahhh...what the _fuck_!" screamed the man.

"Warehouse," said Rorschach.

The man's eyes widened.

"Here... look, listen I... don't know anything, okay? I, augh--!" he grimaced when Rorschach stepped on his injured hand.

"Will step harder," Rorschach told him. "Answer who and why."

"I don't know... don't know..." said the man, face streaming with tears. "They just came in out of nowhere, start shooting the place up. I just ran as soon as they burst in, okay? I... they shot at me, figured I was a dead man anyway, I think, since they hit... Didn't know they just busted my hand, that's all!"

"Hrm."

"Please, I don't know who they are, I just did what I was hired for, delivered goods. That's it!"

"Hired?"

"Yes, yes--just some guy at the docks--Hersch, don't know anything besides his name. He just wanted me to deliver some crates, I don't know what was in them or what they were for or nothing, I swear. _Please_!"

Rorschach let up and left the sobbing man where he was on the ground. He turned to find Nightshade sitting demurely on the steps of the bar with her hands in her lap. He growled at her a little and gestured to her with his hand. She stood up, looking bewildered.

"What? I thought you could handle it."

"Not intimidating."

She smiled.

"You mean you weren't doing enough of a job?"

Rorschach shook his head.

"Need to keep watch."

She frowned as if she just recalled something distressing.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Rorschach shook his head and mentioned nothing more of the subject. If she did it again he would have to reprimand her.

"Listen, I..." Nightshade trailed off. "I guess this is a bad time to discuss it, but I wanted to know what you thought of...you know...teaming up?"

"No."

"Can't you even consider it for a moment?"

Rorschach didn't reply, merely steered them towards the direction of the docks. He was surprised that the man had mentioned them. He knew very well that the Comedian patrolled those areas and kept them quite clean. Still, sometimes trash went unnoticed, especially when it looked recyclable. The pair continued in silence, Rorschach contemplative and Nightshade sullen. Overhead, a huge aircraft loomed over them. It passed by, then made a quick turn and hovered a few feet off the ground. Two figures emerged from the bottom of the craft, leaping out in a fantastic display of gymnastics that did not impress Rorschach. He knew who they were.

Nightshade gasped.

"Is that.. Ozymandias?" she asked him.

Indeed it was. And his new partner, Nite Owl II. The two men approached them, looking quite friendly and open. Rorschach thought they were foolish. What if he and Nightshade had been scum disguised as heroes, waiting to ambush them?

"Greetings," said Ozymandias, as soon as they were within hearing. "Imagine my surprise to find another pair of costumed vigilantes such as ourselves."

"Uh... yes," Nightshade said awkwardly once it became apparent that Rorschach would remain silent.

"I am Ozymandias."

"Nite Owl II," said the other man.

"Err, Nightshade and Rorschach." Nightshade realized Ozymandias was holding his hand out to shake, but seeing as Rorschach made no movement to take it, she followed his example and folded her arms instead.

"Might I ask if you are patrolling or on a mission?" asked Ozymandias, pleasantly, despite being ignored.

"Just patrolling," said Nightshade. "Nothing special."

"You must think we're rude," laughed Ozymandias. "My apologies. We merely wanted to propose the idea of joining forces together. What say you -- would you care to join us? You may even come with us if you wish to see how we work before you make your minds up."

"We're currently looking for the Twilight Lady," Nite Owl II added. Nightshade felt relieved.

"Oh good, you do that," she told him. "We're not into that sort of thing."

Rorschach coughed once. Nite Owl II seemed not to get Nightshade's meaning, though Ozymandias smiled.

"Very well," said Ozymandias after an awkward pause. "If you have a change of heart, we can be reached at this frequency."

Ozymandias handed Nightshade a card and turned away with his cape swirling dramatically behind him. Nite Owl II waved and followed suit, though not as gracefully. The pair disappeared into the craft as quickly as they appeared and soon the craft was gone from sight, then from sound, then no traces remained of it.

"They have their own _frequency_?" said Nightshade in disbelief as she turned to Rorschach. He shrugged.

"Priveleged," he said.

"Oh, well. I'm glad they're not looking into the same thing we are."

"Why?"

"They might take the credit for everything if they solve this thing before us."

"What does it matter? Scum punished. Same thing."

"No--not the same thing if the newspapers talk about them, and not us."

Rorschach turned, bristling a little.

"Is that why you do this? Fame?"

"No," she laughed. "Heck no. That's the last thing I need."

"Then?"

"I just want to be in the paper. Once. Just once--big enough to have a picture."

"Why?"

"So my mother would find out about it."

"Why not tell her?"

"No, no... It's not the same. She needs to find out from an alternate source."

Strange. Very strange girl. Rorschach was intrigued. He turned and began to walk again. She quickly followed, looking back up at her into the sky.

"They won't follow us," he assured her. She turned and laughed.

"Yeah...I'm sorry, I guess I'm just used to dealing with you," she said, smiling. "Still, those guys were weird, weren't they?"

"Ozymandias. Yes. Possibly homosexual."

Nightshade's eyes opened wide and she laughed again.

"Wow--..." she shook her head. "Wow. What does that say about the guy who hangs out with him?"

He shrugged.

"Just working together."

"I know," she sighed. "I was just joking."

"Ah." he turned to her. "What will happen to your article if turns out Twilight Lady behind our case?"

"What?" she looked shocked. "No, that's weird. What would she be doing smuggling drugs? How would that work?"

"She can hide them in vice grip."

"Okay, _now_ you're just mocking me." She laughed, nevertheless.

"Nite Owl II seems to have personal interest."

"Oh?" Nightshade looked interested. "So you're saying they will be out of our hair for a while, at least?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Nightshade stopped after a moment, and Rorschach looked at her questioningly. Nightshade looked back at him to speak.

"Hey, wait a minute... Back there, did you say... _our_ case?"

Rorschach resumed walking.

"Yes."

"Does that mean..."

"This case. Just this case."

Nightshade threw up her hands, but she was grinning when she ran to catch up with him.

-----

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes: Thanks again, reviewers. Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing anything right, then I get encouragement from you and it keeps me going!

Mr. Arkham -- (Joker!?) Good point. I had tried to make him speak more normally, but it always seems too forced to me. I figured the clipped tones were "Rorschach", the normal speech, Walter. I figured since he is trying to at least pretend to be Rorschach, he would speak in that manner. Especially when dealing with people who try his patience, such as villains, or Ozymandias (and girls). I agree that he should probably slip more. I'll try again with the regular approach, but it's up to him. It seems like he has a mind of his own when I'm writing his words. :) I hope it's not too bothersome.

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Ch. 5

The streets were quiet tonight, but the docks were even quieter. Laurie was glad she wasn't alone. Then again, if she had been alone, would she have ventured out this far? She was glad that Rorschach seemed to know where they were headed. She watched him as he grilled some dock workers, asking them where the Comedian was. Nobody seemed to know, really. They just stammered a lot and pointed in a number of directions.

The Comedian. Would they really find him here, in the docks? Laurie had heard of him in passing, knew how he looked from the picture of the Minutemen on her mother's dresser. He never visited, though. She remembered hearing once that he had been kicked out years back. Uncle Nelly -- Captain Metropolis -- in a drunken state, had loudly mentioned it, though her mother had prodded him into being quiet when she realized Laurie was there and listening. As much as Laurie hated hearing about her mother's past heroics, there was a certain magnetism, a certain charm to those days of the Minutemen. Back in those days, things seemed to be tinted a different color. Things seemed better back then. At least, that's what her mother seemed to be convinced of.

Rorschach needn't have bothered to ask about the Comedian, it seemed. They had only been in the docks fifteen minutes when even Laurie spotted him. He was blocks away, but he was huge. Holding what looked like a cigar, he was standing out like a smokestack in the middle of the docks district. Rorschach steered them closer to him and the Comedian waved when they were within earshot.

"Hey trick or treat," he said, bearing a wide smile. "Is it that time already?"

"We're crime fighters too," exclaimed Laurie, though she couldn't help but smile in return. His own smile was infectious, and he seemed to be swimming in levity. She wanted to tell him that he used to work with her mother.

"Need info," said Rorschach, completely ignoring the little exchange between the two.

"Yeah?" the Comedian raised an eyebrow. "Straight to business, eh?"

"Drug smugglers here. Have you seen them?"

"Drug smugglers? Not really, no."

"Docks are your domain. You must know of recent criminal activity."

The Comedian stared at him for a full three seconds before he threw his head back and laughed out loud. Laurie looked around nervously. The Comedian didn't seem to care who heard him.

"Shit, are you kidding me?" he asked, still laughing. "You could pick any building in this place, bust in and find them in the middle of all sorts of 'criminal activity'. I ain't the elite brigade. I can't keep track of everything that goes down here."

"Must know something. Any information would be helpful."

"All right, kid," said the Comedian. Suddenly he looked serious, but it seemed more like he was humoring Rorschach. "What do you need?"

"Found connection to recent shipments of new vapor drug. Linked back to Hersch, possibly in the docks."

"Don't know about that new vapor shit. Hell, if I saw anybody with it I'd beat them senseless. What reasons the privileged have to do drugs over is my question." He looked contemplative for a moment, billows of cigar smoke rising up from his face. His eyes looked sad until he looked at them again. "Heard of Hersch, though."

"Whereabouts?"

"I dunno -- look, I ain't his mother -- but he usually goes by the name Gimmick. Stupid name if you ask me. Why be named after something that has nothing to do with you? I'm the Comedian. I make jokes. You, I bet you're Ink Face. Or Hard Ass. And you're what... Little Girl?"

Laurie didn't have time to register the remark before she almost barrelled over when the Comedian slapped her shoulder, hard. He paused, leaned in for a moment and studied her in the low light.

"Huh," he said, straightening up and regarding her for a moment. "You look really young, kid. How old are you? Fourteen?"

"No!" said Laurie, laughing in spite of herself.

"And let me guess, you're twelve," said the Comedian, looming down on Rorschach, who bristled.

"No," Laurie practically wailed as she laughed harder.

Rorschach watched the two of them as if they had just turned into pack mules.

"Anyways," said the Comedian, grinning, "You should find him in the east side. Operates in half the warehouses there, D9 through E14, I think. I'd go with you, but I don't feel like babysitting."

"No need," said Rorschach, in a half-snarl.

"Yeah, look hey -- I know you're not twelve. I'm just joking with you."

Rorschach nodded and started to leave.

"I know you're fourteen like her." The Comedian laughed.

Suddenly, Rorschach seemed to be moving at lightning speed, and Laurie had to run to catch up with him. Her smile faded when he turned and regarded her for a long moment.

"We will go to warehouses D9 through E14," he told her in an almost pleasant tone that surprised her.

"Okay," she said, smiling nervously. If there turned out to be this Hersch, this Gimmick, there tonight, she had a feeling he was going to have a very unpleasant time speaking to Rorschach.

The Comedian's directions were very precise. For a man who had no idea what they were talking about, he certainly seemed to know what Rorschach was referring to. They had barely gotten to the vicinity of warehouse E14 when they came across a group of men shouting. A man wearing black appeared to be attempting to pacify them.

"Boys, come on already," he said. "Arguing like this, it's just a waste of time."

"We want to know who killed the Ferguson brothers," said another man.

"Yeah, and why isn't anybody coming to pick up the shipments?" asked another.

"I'm sure there's an expl--"

"There isn't any explanation, Gimmick. You're nothing but a shitload of unexplained business, aren't you?"

The man in black, Gimmick, swallowed.

"Look, the boss hasn't been telling me anything nowadays. Don't you think I've been trying to get hold of him?" Gimmick asked them, arms outstretched.

"I bet he's ditched us and the plans."

"Yeah, I heard he moved to the sewers, is that true?"

"Why aren't we in the sewers too? Why are we stuck in this junk hole with the Comedian breathing down our backs?"

The rest of the conversation turned into an jumbled mass of shouts and curses. Gimmick watched for a moment before he held up his hands again.

"Look, boys," he sighed. "Why don't you take this..."

Gimmick started to look through his pockets. He pulled out a few bills.

"Take this," he continued, "and go drinking. Drink yourselves sick, pass out, and come back tomorrow. I'll try to contact the boss in the meantime. Sound good?"

The men muttered darkly amongst themselves as one of them snatched the bills away and counted them. They seemed satisfied for now, though depending on their mood they would most likely return later drunk and even angrier than before. Gimmick watched them leave with his hand on the back of his neck. He turned and kicked the remains of a spare plank aside as he headed towards the warehouse.

"Christ, what a shitty day," he muttered to himself. Rorschach sprang forward and made it worse.

"Woahthef--" screamed Gimmick, as he was first grabbed by the collar and tossed to one side of warehouse E14, then to the other side of warehouse E13.

Gimmick, not a big man, but not a lightweight either, lay dazed on the concrete. His eyes widened as Rorschach stood over him.

"God, wtaughhrughhh," Gimmick choked as Rorschach started to strangle him.

"Working for someone. Who?" snarled Rorschach.

"I...ughhurghhh...aohh.. Who are you?"

"Wrong answer."

Gimmick screamed as he was tossed into the air and halfway to warehouse E12. Laurie watched, mesmerized, but she remembered how much Rorschach disliked her doing nothing while he interrogated people. She stepped into the nearest warehouse, marked E14, and looked inside. The warehouse was three times the size of the one that had burned down, and just as full. Five light bulbs lined the top of the ceiling, adequately lighting the interior. Laurie walked in cautiously, then with quicker steps when she had determined that it was empty. Reaching for the nearest crate, she looked inside. She wasn't surprised to find candle holders. She picked one up. Yes, the fake kind, with the drugs. She set it down and searched three more crates. All of them, drugs. She couldn't believe it -- if all these crates were filled...

Where would they find use for all these drugs? Did one person use a whole crate's worth at a time? Or just a candle stick's worth? Or even just one pellet? No matter how she looked at it, there was an excess of drugs in here, and she couldn't possibly think of how there could be such a demand for them. Maybe one rich old man was buying them all to add to his bizarre collection of oddities? Laurie jumped as she heard Gimmick scream. It was loud and shrill, even through the warehouse walls. Leaving the drugs exposed and scattered, she walked out to see what Rorschach was up to.

"All right -- it's Underboss -- Underboss!" Gimmick was planted face-down on the concrete, Rorschach's foot on his head to keep him there. He was holding Gimmick's arms at an angle and judging by how far the right one went out it looked like he had broken it.

Laurie put a hand to her mouth. She knew Rorschach had been angry, but it seemed to have been more than she had imagined.

"Underboss?" asked Rorschach.

"Yes. God yes. He just wanted to get in the drug business, starting with the classier crowd. I don't know anything besides that."

Gimmick screamed again as Rorschach beared his weight on his arm. There was a distant shriek of sirens -- Gimmick's screams must have finally moved someone to call the police.

"Oh God, oh God -- he moved his whole operation to the sewers, I don't know where -- I haven't heard from him in days, that's all I know."

Rorschach twisted his arm and Gimmick started to sob and squeal.

"That's all I know, God, _that's all I know_!"

"Hrm."

Rorschach suddenly let go of Gimmick's arms as if they were tainted. He looked up to see Laurie watching.

"Uh," stammered Laurie. "There's drugs in there... the whole warehouse is full of them."

Rorschach nodded as the sounds of sirens drew nearer.

"Police are coming. Perfect for your article." he told her, paused, then added, "I'm sorry if treatment of man disturbed you."

Laurie looked down at the whimpering man and frowned a little.

"N-No, uh... it's not big enough. This case. It has to be something big."

Rorschach nodded. He pulled out a piece of brown paper with a pattern on it. Laurie walked over to study it.

"Wow," she said in admiration. "I wish I had a signature like that."

Rorschach reached up and without actually touching her, clipped a small excess of her scarf. Laurie watched as he affixed it to the sign, which he tossed on Gimmick, who appeared to have passed out. Rorschach ushered them to a suitable area to watch in hiding until they were sure the police would arrive in time to find Gimmick. The drugs exposed and in a convenient place coupled with Rorschach's message, the police got the idea and took him away. They didn't even bother to handcuff him. Laurie couldn't help but feel excited by her first victory. Well, she aided, at least. Actually, Rorschach did most of the work while she followed him. She frowned a little. She was going to have to ask him how she could make herself more useful.

Regardless, it was still an exciting night, and this was a perfect way to end it. She was looking forward to what they would find tomorrow. Laurie turned to Rorschach and smiled. He regarded her for a moment, and she pretended he was smiling under the mask, too. He turned and started to walk away.

Maybe not.

-----

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

No matter how Walter looked at it, he couldn't shake her out of his mind.

When she first came in, he had been stunned. Out in the street at night, Rorschach knew everything. Here at his menial day job, Walter felt naked and worthless. Here in the daylight in full view she just looked...

No, he wouldn't think about it too hard.

How did it play out, though? He had to just go over it again in his head. Above him in his mind's eye he could see it, the small dress shop he was sent to that morning. The usual worker was out sick, probably for a week. He was told to fill in. Walter was usually kept in the back, out of sight, but this shop was too small and really, had no back area to be sent to. He was sent to the side instead, where he measured, cut, and pinned fabric to the specifications given him. Keeping his eyes on his work, he could hear the incessant chattering of two middle-aged women off to his right. The shop owner, a man large in all directions, stood with his thumbs tucked into his suspenders as his assistant, a woman in her mid-twenties, tried to persuade the older women to buy one dress over the other. The women bickered over fabric and style and color while Walter grit his teeth. Too much background noise. He didn't like it. The door to his left opened. He meant to merely glance, but he was left with a pin hanging in mid-air and his mouth open.

A girl came in -- that wasn't important in itself. It was a woman's dress shop, after all, but no, it was the way she walked and looked. He knew it had to be _her_. Then she turned and smiled at another customer who was excusing herself as she walked past. When he saw the smile he knew for sure it was her. An older woman, probably her mother, came in behind her.

"Stay here Laurie, while I speak to Mr. Greer," she told her.

The girl, Laurie, nodded and began to look around. She approached the display that Walter was standing behind, so focused on looking at the display itself that she didn't see Walter himself standing right there. Rorschach would have frowned at her inattentiveness, but Walter defended her -- how many people noticed _him_, after all? She didn't see him so it gave him ample time to study her. Far away, she was pretty. Close up, he had no words. He tried to take every detail in before she left him. If there had been glass in front of him he would have been looking through a fog. He didn't realize she had looked up until she smiled.

"Hi," she said.

Walter had no reply for that. He looked down and started working again. When he looked up, she was still studying him. He stared. They silently competed against the other's gaze, until she broke it when her mother approached.

"Laurie," her mother began, then looked over at Walter. Her lips pursed and she frowned in the way women did when they looked at him. Disapproval. "Laurie, here, why don't you show him darling? Turn around."

Laurie nodded and turned in a half circle. Mr. Greer, who had been watching, nodded.

"Yes, I think the newer style would suit her, Sally," he said.

"Why don't we get her something in pink?" said the mother, Sally. "My little Laurie's going to be sixteen in two weeks."

Walter blushed, embarrassed. She was younger than he had initially guessed. Now he felt dirty. But why? He wasn't thinking anything about her, not at all. There was nothing he thought about her that would make him feel ashamed.

"Walter," said Mr. Greer suddenly, making him jump, "Measure her."

Walter's eyes went wide. He looked over at Mr. Greer's assistant, who was still busy with those cursed women.

"Haven't got all day, Walter" he snapped. "Hurry."

Walter came out from behind the safety of the counter and took one tentative step forward. Then another. Sally ignored Walter completely and continued to talk.

"Laurie wants to spend her birthday with her dear old mother -- just the two of us together, all day. Isn't that sweet?" she asked Mr. Greer, who just nodded with vague disinterest.

He measured her arm. Laurie giggled.

"The dress doesn't have sleeves," she whispered to him. Walter was mortified.

She held her arms out to her sides. He wanted to close his eyes so he didn't have to see where his hands were going, but that would be ridiculous. He wouldn't be able to see the numbers. So he made sure to pay extra attention. Just for measurements' sake. Then he measured her again to make sure. Then a third time. She started to laugh, embarrassed. He was embarrassed too. He didn't mean to be rude or anything, honest, it's just that he kept forgetting the numbers... He looked up, expecting Mr. Greer to be glaring at him, but his eyes were glazed over, Sally apparently talking his ear off.

"And you know, when Laurie grows up she wants to be a crime fighter just like her mother," she gushed, giving Laurie a smile.

Laurie smiled -- a forced one.

"I used to be the Silk Spectre," said Sally, looking directly at Walter for once.

"Congratulations," Walter muttered.

Sally didn't hear, but Laurie did. She laughed. He smiled at her. She smiled back. He felt faint. He measured her again. Wasn't he forgetting something? Oh yes, the neck. His fingers brushed her throat as he passed the measuring tape through them. He froze. Did the dress even come with a high collar? He looked up, and found her looking at him. At this close proximity, it was too intense. He looked away and happened to look at her mouth. Looked at it too long, and realized what he was doing and pulled away quickly. The tape measure still around her neck, he pulled Laurie along with him.

"Wow," said Laurie, laughing as she put a hand on his arm. She ducked down from under the tape.

"What are you doing, Laurie?" asked her mother, suspiciously.

"Nothing!"

"Come look at the fabric, dear. Doesn't this pink look nice?"

"Yes."

"You're not even looking at it. Come here, darling."

Laurie turned and made a face at Walter. It took him a moment to realize that the face was made towards her mother and not him. He stared after her, mesmerized.

"Walter, stop gawking and get over here," said Mr. Greer. "Bring down the fabric for them to see."

This he could do, at least. Sally wanted to see everything. Pretty soon there was a mountain of fabric in front of him, and he had to peer out from behind it to see them. He glanced out quickly to find Laurie looking at him again. He was pretty sure he was blushing now. She smiled. He ducked back behind the fabric, suddenly feeling his forehead break out in a sweat.

"I think I'll go with this color," said Sally. "What do you think, Laurie?"

"It's fine."

"Just fine? Your mother is buying you an expensive, beautiful dress for your birthday and it's just fine?"

"It's lovely, thank you."

"That's better. You know, back when I was your age, I didn't get to wear dresses like this. In fact..."

Walter tuned her out and began returning bolts of fabric to their proper place. After everything else was returned, the chosen fabric remained. It was a light yellow. Walter looked at it and tried to imagine how she would look in the dress.

"Walter, get to work," snapped Mr. Greer, who tossed the fabric at him. "Pattern 83-A. It's in the storage closet. Work on it."

"When will this be ready?" asked Sally.

"By tomorrow ma'am -- if that boy of ours hurries of course. He's just temporary. Hard to get help nowadays."

"It is, isn't it? Oh, nothing's the same now -- not how it used to be."

Sally and Mr. Greer laughed as if they had just shared a joke. Walter searched for the specified dress pattern and by the time he found it and looked up, she was gone. Breathing a sigh, he went back to work. Suddenly the middle-aged women -- still chattering -- didn't seem so bad anymore. The room seemed less stifling and he felt he could see and think again. Then he realized he was going to see her tomorrow. His chest was oddly constricted. He would focus on the pattern. Patterns were easy.

Cleaning was also easy. Walter found himself easing out of his thoughts and saw the old familiar layout of his low-rent apartment. He had been thinking about that morning for the thousandth time that day. Each time he would catch himself and start cleaning furiously. His small apartment looked as spotless as it could be; the place had always looked dingy. He continued to sweep over the areas he had gone over again and cleaned as if his life depended on it. One more hour and the sun would be down and he could be Rorschach and he could stop thinking about these things because Rorschach wasn't like this. He was beyond this and all emotions while Walter drowned in them.

The paint was beginning to wear thin on the countertop. He decided to clean the oven. He looked inside. Spotless. Why not? He never used it. He cleaned it anyway, though it didn't take much time as there was nothing to clean. He sighed. He threw down the rag he was using and began to pace the small room.

He had finished that dress earlier in the day, with more care than he put into the other clothing. The other clothing looked too much like women. The dress though, looked like her. He wondered if she would like it. She didn't seem to like the fabric at all. It was nice enough fabric, expensive even. Her mother was certainly rich enough, though if she was truly affluent then she wouldn't have come into a shop that allowed him to work there. Sighing harshly, he grabbed at his hair with his hands. He washed his hands. Then his face. Then he paced the room again. Paced until sunset, then put on Rorschach. Rorschach glared at him in the mirror, shaking his head in disapproval. Walter was weak, but Rorschach would take care of things.

Trivial things; irrelevant. Women couldn't be trusted, no matter how young. Nightshade, all right, however. She wasn't a woman, just a mask. Could be molded to do good. He found her at the usual place, and she smiled at him. He nodded. Time to work.

"I saw them mention that Gimmick guy in the paper this morning," said Nightshade. "Did you read it?"

Rorschach looked at her but said nothing.

"Oh, well." She shrugged. "Where to next?"

He gestured in a direction. He knew some places. She looked at him oddly -- probably because he was so silent. He had nothing to say to her. Too busy worrying about Walter. No, needed to focus on Underboss.

Rorschach had committed the crime lord's drug route to his mind. The warehouses containing the crates had been in different locations, and Rorschach had seen them accessed on separate days and all over the city. Put them together in one map, however, there was a definite pattern there. Underboss' drug route made its slow descent to lower Manhattan. Rorschach needed to get more information before they went down there, but he knew at some point they would have to make their way to the sewers. He looked at Nightshade's shoes. Boots. Good. Practical.

"Just working together," he pointed at her.

Nightshade turned and gave him a look of incomprehension. She would know, though. She knew what he meant, deep down.

After all, mask or no, she was a woman.

-----

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Notes: By now I have figured out that there is a "reply" button in the reviews section, but I just like putting these notes in to annoy everybody.

Vaudeville -- I'm not certain, though I think he is nineteen or close to it. I'm sure Sally will get in the way in some form or another.

MK08 -- I have ideas in my head, but I can't force the characters. I'm worried that I will have to write thirty chapters before Rorschach stops being a stubborn bastard. Looking forward to your story.

Kairan1979 -- I'm glad you like him. He's going to make more appearances later on.

-----

Ch. 7

"It's so sweet of you to plan on spending your birthday with your mother instead of your friends," said Sally.

Laurie went up to her room, trying not to laugh at her mother. She had no friends to spend her birthday with. Though, Laurie supposed she would have somehow spent the day with her mother regardless, seeing how unbelievably pushy she was with many things.

Laurie tried to imagine how her upcoming birthday would be if things were more... normal. For some reason all she could think of in her mind was Rorschach showing up with a wrapped gift, then Ozymandias with Nite Owl II showing up to invite her to _his_ birthday celebration, which was bigger and better and more exciting.

No, that was ridiculous. Rorschach would never wrap a gift himself. Was it sad that he and the two others with whom she had only spoken to once, were her idea of friends? Thinking of her life in this manner, she realized just how much like her mother's it was. Laurie was disturbed by the parallel, though she was intrigued by this train of thought nonetheless. If these new costumed heroes were equivalents of the people her mother worked with, who would their individual counterparts be? Laurie kept trying to compare Nite Owl II to the original Nite Owl, and it just wasn't working out in her mind. She thought of Ozymandias and Nite Owl II as closest to the only two people in the Minutemen who regularly teamed up -- Hooded Justice and Captain Metropolis. She couldn't decide who went with who, though. Was Ozymandias more like Hooded Justice, or Captain Metropolis? How about Nite Owl II? She was going to have to ask Rorschach for his opinion later. Now, Rorschach, he didn't have an equivalent. Come to think of it, she didn't really, either.

Feeling better, Laurie spent the time reading the newspapers while she waited for nightfall. Her mother came up briefly to hand her some tea before she retired for the night. Sally liked to stay in her bedroom and watch television until she fell asleep.

"Say Laurie, you sure are taking an interest to the papers nowadays."

"I'm so caged in, mother, it's my only contact with the outside world," Laurie said solemnly.

Sally laughed.

"Oh you're such a funny little thing," she said, kissing her daughter on the cheek and leaving the room.

Laurie sat still and waited for ten minutes before leaping up and getting dressed. She was earlier than usual, but when she went to their usual meeting place, Rorschach slipped out of the shadows. She wondered how he always knew when she was around.

"Good evening, Rorschach," she said, smiling. She was glad to see him.

He nodded at her. He had been acting strange since yesterday, but she just assumed he was busy thinking about the case. The pair of them went where Rorschach led them, through alleys and loading areas. All empty. There were two men smoking cigarettes outside a warehouse, but they looked pretty ordinary so Rorschach didn't even bother with them. Suddenly, he stopped. Laurie, close behind him, had to grab his shoulders to keep from crashing into him. Rorschach twisted about to point something out to her. It was a limousine that was quickly getting out of sight.

"Oh!" said Laurie, not thinking too much, just reacting. She grabbed Rorschach's hand as she went to the street and put out her arm. A taxi pulled up a few moments later.

"Where to?" asked the cabbie, squinting at them. Laurie jumped in, Rorschach holding up his hands in disbelief but following anyway.

"Follow that limousine, please," said Laurie. "Hurry!"

The cab driver drove out into the street and followed her instructions.

"You kids late for a party or something?" he asked.

"Err, yes," said Laurie. "They didn't have enough room for us in the limousine."

"Or you didn't have enough room for them, eh?"

The driver laughed, Laurie joining in nervously. Then just silence.

Laurie worried about the cab fare. She did have a few dollars with her, but not that much. She was hoping Rorschach had something on him. She looked at him and realized he was staring at her.

"What?" she whispered.

"Taxi?" he said.

"Well, it beats Nite Owl II's flying contraption, doesn't it?"

"Hrmph."

"Come on -- it's working so far. What were we going to do, run after them?"

Rorschach said nothing, so Laurie assumed he was in agreement. Laurie turned to look at the back of the driver's head, then at the limousine, which was two cars ahead. Laurie smiled.

"I hope you weren't just pointing out the limo because you thought it was nice," Laurie whispered.

He just looked at her again. Laurie turned her attention back to the road before turning to him again.

"Oh," she said, smiling to herself. She leaned in closer so he could hear her. "I was trying to come up with a parallel between the Minutemen and us -- you know, the new costumed avengers."

Rorschach made a non-committal noise, so Laurie continued.

"I couldn't think of anybody who was like you and me, and I just didn't think Nite Owl II fit with Nite Owl I, so I thought Ozymandias and him would be more like Hooded Justice and Captain Metropolis. But I couldn't decide who was who."

"Depends on who beats who."

"What?"

"You didn't read Mason's book."

Laurie sighed.

"No -- my mother said I can when I'm older."

"Hrm."

"I know, I know-- it's strange. Well, actually, my mother used to be the Silk Spectre. Don't think it's shocking that I'm telling you this -- she likes to tell everyone else in the world... wait, I guess I just gave my identity away." Laurie laughed. "Oh well, it doesn't matter."

Silence. Laurie looked at Rorschach and wished he had a facial expression she could discern. Without thinking, she reached out and put a tentative finger on the edge of his mask. Rorschach flinched away and looked at her, the pattern of his mask swirling angrily.

"It's heat sensitive, isn't it?" she asked him.

"Yes. Next time just ask."

"What?" Laurie laughed. "It's not like I was trying to take it off."

Looking at him wickedly, she slowly put out her hand as if towards his mask. He grabbed her forearm and held fast.

"Hey, what are you doing back there?" asked the cab driver. Rorschach and Laurie jumped back to their respective seats, looking guilty, somehow. "That's better. No hanky panky in my cab."

Laurie tried to hide her smile as she turned her attention towards the limousine. The sleek black vehicle turned off at a private street.

"Uh, could you let us out here, please?" asked Laurie, before the cab could follow.

The driver looked at her suspiciously through the rear-view mirror, but he obeyed. Before Laurie could bother looking for money, Rorschach had thrown it at the driver and jumped out of the cab. She smiled at the driver, who was shaking his head, and followed. The two waited for the taxi to leave before making the slow and steep ascension up the street. Laurie worried if once they reached the top of the hill, there would be not one house, but several. Her fears were quickly abated, however. The only structure in front of them was a stark white, three-story mansion. The limousine was nowhere in sight, but Laurie couldn't imagine where else it could have gone to but to the house. The yard was vast and well-lit, forcing them to stick to the dense foliage of trees on the outer premises. When they reached the back, however, it was quite dark. Laurie felt the usual excitement build up as they crept forward. When they reached the back of the house, they paused and listened. Rorschach looked in the window, then felt around the door. He pulled out a tool kit and opened the lock with ease. Laurie was impressed.

Inside, the house was dark and silent. Laurie worried again that they had the wrong house, somehow. They sneaked through the kitchen, dining area, then the hall before they found two men standing on either sides of a door. Rorschach signalled for her to wait as he went to the other side. A few moments later she tackled the man on the left while he took care of the one on the right. The men went down without being given the chance to react to their presence. They paused for a moment to tie and gag them, then stuffed them in a cabinet before returning to the door the men had been guarding. Rorschach listened at the door then tried it. The door revealed a staircase that led to what appeared to be the basement. Rorschach tested the steps before making his way down. Laurie followed and crouched behind him when he paused close to the foot of the stairs. The basement was empty. Laurie was intrigued to find that this basement looked nothing like hers. Her basement was used for storing food, while this basement looked like it could be a study. There were desks, bookshelves, a large table, and even a lamp that was on. Books and papers were scattered everywhere. Rorschach swiftly made the rest of the way down and began looking through them.

Laurie found what looked like a closet and opened it. It was strangely empty, save for one coat hanger. She started to close the doors again before realizing that the coat hanger looked strange -- as if it were attached to the rack. She touched it. Her eyes widened as a panel swung open, revealing a passageway. At the same time, the door to the steps above them opened. Laurie didn't have a chance to react as Rorschach sprung out and pushed her into the closet and jumped in after her, closing the door. They were just in time. Several sets of footsteps made their way down the stairs. Someone cleared their throat.

"Not down here either. Where the hell did they run off to?" said a male voice.

"Who knows. Probably off drinking again." said another.

"Shit, you don't think they're raiding the boss' liquor cabinet again do you?"

"Who cares? He's down in the sewers wasting his time anyway."

"Why the hell did he build a secret hideout in the sewers? It stinks down there."

"I don't know -- he's convinced that Ozzywhatsis guy and his pal can't bring their flying wahoo down there."

"Can't they just get out and walk?"

"That's what I'm saying! It makes no sense!"

The voices were starting to get closer, so Rorschach and Laurie slipped into the tunnel behind them. Laurie closed the panel gently, then sprinted after Rorschach, who looked around before pulling out a flashlight.

"Stupid," he whispered, "But too dark."

The light illuminated the tunnels behind them, and they practically ran ahead before they rounded the corner and waited for the men to catch up. They were loud, their voices echoing all around them as their subject matter turned to women with big bosoms. One man was deeply engrossed in giving out details of what his roving hands would do when Rorschach punched him down. Laurie sprung out and kicked another man, who had a surprised look on his face. She heard Rorschach handle another, and they were done. Laurie was a little disappointed that there were only three. Rorschach searched them but didn't seem to find anything of importance. They continued on through the tunnel, which led out into the sewers. Rorschach turned off his flashlight. The sewers were still pretty dark, but dimly lit with weak bulbs that seemed to stretch out in rows that went on forever. Laurie was amazed. Whoever set this up seemed to have limitless resources.

The sewers didn't give out for a while, though Laurie realized that if they had tried to reach the same area from an outside location, this would have taken longer. Up ahead, Rorschach paused, and gestured for her to wait. He slipped off on his own, then returned.

"Ambush," he said, in a low voice that gave Laurie a strange feeling that she had heard it somewhere before. "Some armed."

"How many?" she asked, shaking her thoughts out for now.

"Dozen."

"What do we do?"

"Take them -- just thugs."

Laurie was excited. This was unbelievable. Did he really trust in her ability to aid him in a crazy situation like this? They were armed. Rorschach didn't seem to think this mattered. He gestured with his head in a signal for her to follow him and they practically strolled into the next room. It looked like the room was under construction, and beyond that Laurie could see the beginnings of a foundation. The room was also filled with crates, more desks with papers, and a dozen men who looked shocked at their entrance. Behind them was a big man wearing a pristine white suit. Laurie had no doubt that this was Underboss.

"That's it?" asked Underboss. "Big Figure just sends in two goons?"

"Do we look like goons to you?" asked Laurie, offended.

He studied her for a moment, then Rorschach. He grit his teeth in what looked like a grimace of comprehension.

"All right, down 'em," he told his men, while simultaneously turning and slipping out into the back.

Even as Underboss' command left his lips, Rorschach was already in the process of disarming one man, then using him to push back two others. One man tried to grab at Laurie and she retaliated with a punch, then a kick to another man behind her. Underboss' men were overcompensating with Rorschach -- he must have looked like the bigger threat, and they seemed to be concentrating on him. They tried to restrain him while he moved at an impossibly fast speed. Meanwhile, they paid almost no attention to Laurie. She started to laugh as she swiped a man's rifle out of his hands and used it to knock him down. Half a dozen men were practically climbing over each other in an effort to get to Rorschach. Only a couple remained to stare in disbelief at Laurie as she beat them unconscious. When she looked up, it seemed that Rorschach was also finished. They took a quick sweep around the room before following the tunnel the Underboss had used. It led to a series of chambers, some in the process of being built, all of them holding crates, thousands of them. Laurie was dumbfounded. This man had an underground drug vault.

They took more of Underboss' men by surprise, and many turned up to aid their allies, but all of them ended up knocked to the floors of the makeshift hallway and its many rooms. When they finally reached the end, they emerged out of the side of a large hill. Underboss was nowhere in sight. They climbed further up to find a large, flat area at the top. Rorschach knelt down to study the ground. Sprays of dirt came out from where in the center were faint outlines of tracks. Underboss seemed to have had his own air transport. Maybe he got ideas from Nite Owl II. Laurie made a frustrated sound, though Rorschach didn't seem to be very bothered. He just nodded at her.

"Call this in at least," he said. "For the article."

Laurie started to nod without registering his words, then looked up.

"I... what? Really? You mean, by myself?"

"Yes."

"But what about you?"

"Need to investigate Big Figure." He paused. "It's all right -- don't worry, just call it in."

"What do I say?"

"Anything you wish."

Rorschach turned and looked at her briefly before going back inside.

-----

To be continued...


	8. Chapter 8

Ch. 8

The article describing the discovery of Underboss' sewer lair was mentioned in the front pages of two major newspapers, but there were no accompanying pictures. Rorschach had asked Nightshade about it, and she told him she had run away before they could take photographs. Underboss himself had escaped arrest, and she had wanted a more notable headline. Rorschach respected this decision, and they had immersed themselves in their search for Big Figure. It didn't seem like Big Figure was the type to skulk around in sewers. In fact, from what Rorschach could see so far, Big Figure was quite a notable gangster. He was also harder to find.

It had been nearly two weeks since they had trailed Big Figure. They uncovered two of his underground operations, but no dramatic reveal as there had been with Underboss. Rorschach and Nightshade stayed out longer and longer each night, their work unraveling before them a network of carefully placed contacts, locations, and details. The day before, almost by accident, Rorschach had uncovered a list of places and times. It appeared to be a appointment book entry of some sort, and if someone had been paying attention, this schedule would now be obsolete. However, sometimes things got lost and people grew lazy. Rorschach was counting on the stupidity of others, and he agreed to meet with his partner at the railroad crossing in the city limits. The railroad was still operating, but parts of it was closed down for renovations and were never reopened. The crossing at the edge of the city was no exception... Wait, had he thought of Nightshade as his partner?

Rorschach scratched his head. Well, he supposed it made sense. They had investigated Underboss together. Somehow this case with this Big Figure tied into it and their involvement in both cases flowed smoothly into another without a break. She learned quickly and could hold her own in a fight. She also contributed and kept quiet for the most part. He supposed they were a team now, though he wasn't going to admit to it unless she asked. Hopefully she wouldn't ask. Rorschach felt embarrassed by the idea for some reason. Suddenly impatient, he shifted on his feet, looking for Nightshade. She wasn't late, but he was hopeful that they would leave soon.

As if on cue, Nightshade appeared. She was much more cautious when she moved now, looking around to make sure that nobody was following her. She was better at spotting him. She only looked in two directions before her head moved to where he was standing and she quietly slipped over to him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I would have come sooner but I ran into Ozzy and sidekick again."

Rorschach was mildly annoyed. It seemed that Ozymandias and Nite Owl II had not been bothered with Underboss, but they were obviously on Big Figure's case. Normally he wouldn't feel so competitive, but he believed that Nightshade deserved that picture in the newspaper that she wanted so much, and Ozymandias had already had several headlines. Nite Owl II was even in a recent drug bust article. He himself didn't care what they said about him in the paper, but it was important to _her_.

"I don't know," Nightshade mused. "Maybe we _should_ try to team up with them. You know, trade inf--"

"No."

Rorschach turned and started making his way into the abandoned train lot. He saw the hint of a smile on Nightshade's lips and felt quite satisfied. The pair wordlessly made their way through the lot, skeletons of ancient railway models stretched out before them. Rorschach had looked at old maps of the area earlier. He knew there was also a partially demolished railway station at the far end of the lot. He led them in the direction of the station, keeping lookout in the meantime. Anybody who came across the place would just assume there was nobody there. The lot was eerily silent -- the drone of the city did not reach the place, and even night creatures did not venture inside. Rorschach could hear the faint ripple of voices, sounds echoing off the hulls of locomotives, giving the eerie impression of ghosts in this haunted place.

The voices grew louder as they approached the building, the faint tones of music the only accompaniment to the call of raucous laughter. Rorschach peered inside, then nodded to Nightshade, who joined him as they looked in the window. Four men sat a table, smoking cigars and playing poker. They were laughing about trivialities when a fifth man entered the room. He was a large man in military fatigues.

"Okay ladies, time to clean up. Big Figure's getting here in ten minutes."

"Holy shit," said one man, who had his feet on the table. "Big Figure -- here?"

"Yeah, lame brain, hurry your ass." Military Man grabbed his chair and whipped him away from the table.

The others scrambled to their feet as they began to clear the table of poker chips, cards, and bills. Two men started carrying suitcases into the other room. Rorschach motioned for Nightshade to stay as he followed them to the back of the house and looked inside the windows as he went. He saw what looked like a small kitchen, then further in, what would have been a waiting area long ago, now filled with piles of more suitcases. Rorschach nodded to himself and returned to Nightshade's side, where they waited in silence for ten minutes, then fifteen. Finally, after half an hour, a large van showed up and stopped just a few feet away from the building's front entrance. The driver emerged, went to the side, and opened the door. Two impossibly huge men lumbered out. They shuffled closely together, causing the dust to rise up around them. Military Man ran out and stood at the top of the steps with his chest held high. The two men stopped at the bottom of the stairs and stepped aside. A man who couldn't have been more then four feet tall stood between them.

"B-Big Figure," said the Military Man. "It's so good of you to join us."

Nightshade turned and gave Rorschach such a comical look of surprise that he almost laughed.

"This better not be a waste of my time," said Big Figure. "I'm tired of running around in circles while the masked freaks chase after us. There have been better days in the city when people didn't go around prostituting themselves to tights in the name of justice."

Rorschach bristled.

The men went inside, and they began to discuss business. Rorschach paused for a moment, made suspicious by how easy this all seemed. If this was a trap...

Then he would escape it. They would take the chance. If it meant putting this gangster behind bars, it was the risk they would have to take. Rorschach waved Nightshade over to him and they sneaked their way to the back. Rorschach climbed in through the window, then turned to help Nightshade inside. She gave him an odd look. Rorschach peered into the other room, where one man sat on the suitcases looking half asleep while another man stood idly by, talking his ear off.

"...And I'm telling you--aieee!"

Rorschach had jumped at the man who was standing, tackling him and sending him tumbling into the other man. The three of them rolled around in a tangle of arms, legs, and suitcases. Only Rorschach emerged. Money, probably counterfeit, rose up on the wind coming in from the open kitchen window and began to billow about the room.

"What the hell's going on in there?" asked a voice that sounded like Military Man's. He rounded the corner and Nightshade smashed a chair into his face.

Rorschach swooped into the next room, elbowing one man in the stomach and ducking a punch from one of Big Figure's giant henchmen. The punch missed Rorschach and crunched into the man who had been sitting with his feet on the table earlier. Rorschach jumped onto the table and grabbed the metal poker set case and slammed the hard edge into the giant's eye. He screamed and fell back, clutching at his face as blood streamed from it. Rorschach took Nightshade's earlier example and hit him over the head with a chair, which shattered into pieces. He was still standing, so he used two more chairs to down him.

Nightshade ran towards the remaining big henchman, feigning an attack before ducking down and landing her full weight onto his kneecap as she kicked it. He went down with a cry, and then a choke as she kicked him in the throat. She grabbed Rorschach's discarded poker set case and beat him over the head until he was down. Nightshade looked up to see Big Figure cowering in the corner of the room as Rorschach loomed over him.

"P-Please don't," said Big Figure. "I'll do anything, give you anything! You want money? I'll give you money!"

"We have little use for money," said Rorschach.

"Yeah? Well, uh, I'll get my men out of the streets. They'll stop bothering you."

"We have no short supply of crime fighters to stop them ourselves."

"Are you... are you going to kill me?"

"Turning you in -- stopping you at the height of your career."

Nightshade began to laugh, and Big Figure narrowed his eyes.

"Eh? Are you making fun of me?"

Rorschach shrugged. He was bored of this man who was all talk and wasn't even that in the end. He leaned over and flipped Big Figure around and trussed him up like the swine he was.

"Hey! You untie me you--urmph!" Big Figure gagged on the wad of money that Rorschach shoved into his mouth. He struggled, to no avail.

"We can turn him in for your photo opportunity," said Rorschach, who felt strangely elated.

Nightshade's eyes brightened when she smiled at him.

"You should be in the photo too, you know."

Rorschach paused. He wasn't for publicity shots. The police hadn't seen him, even. He was just a story among the thugs who shuddered to see him even pass them by in the streets.

"I don't think that is necessary," he told her.

"Oh come on," said Nightshade, grabbing his arm. He froze when the fabric of her chest brushed up against it. "We did this together. We'll show Ozzy and Night Owl Jr. we can do things without all their flair and money."

Rorschach lost the ability to form words. Big Figure mumbled something through his gag that sounded a lot like "Oh brother". Nightshade smiled down at the crime boss before moving to the end of the room where she found a phone. She made a few calls and looked up. She seemed excited and all Rorschach could do was stare, fascinated. Big Figured struggled a little and said something again. Rorschach shook him a little and he fell silent.

The police came ten minutes later. The press trailed behind them like ants. The police had to create a line between the reporters and the building, pushing them back while interrogating Nightshade, who seemed all too eager to tell them what happened. Big Figure sat sullen through it all, looking like a little Christmas ham on the table where Rorschach had left him.

"Miss... Nightshade, is it?" said the police officer she had been speaking to. "Would you mind if we let the press members in, one by one? Just one question and photo opportunity each. There are about a dozen of them out there. If you would rather be left in private, we understand. We could even escort you out the back if you wish."

Nightshade looked at Rorschach, who shrugged.

"We don't mind at all," she told the officer.

The officer seemed surprised when he turned to look at Rorschach. He nodded at them, then at another officer near the door. Nightshade smiled at Rorschach and waved him over. He picked up Big Figure from off the table and carried him to her like a bag of groceries and set him down between them. The newspaper folk came in one by one, asking questions that Nightshade answered. Then they took picture after picture until Rorschach could hardly see anymore. He glanced at Nightshade, whose eagerness was apparent even through her mask.

"We make a great team," she told him.

Rorschach gave her a smile and for once wished she could see it.

-----

To be continued...


	9. Chapter 9

Ch. 9

Today was Laurie's birthday.

Laurie could hear her mother humming downstairs. She herself was looking in the mirror, admiring her new dress. The dress was sleeveless with an empire waist and came down to her knees. The dress had a high collar -- it and the hem of the skirt and sleeves were black, while the rest was light yellow. Laurie had been less than thrilled when her mother had suggested the colors. Now that she was looking at it though, she had to admit, it was a very lovely dress.

Turning around to look at the back, Laurie couldn't help but smile. It had been two weeks since she had gone back to the shop with her mother to pick up the dress. The young man who had been given the task to make it had been there. She remembered his name -- Walter. Walter had very red hair, and very sad eyes. He had the most piercing stare she had ever seen. She did her best to make him smile, because it made him look so nice. She decided she liked him. Her mother didn't. That made her like him more.

He didn't say much. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was afraid to speak to her. She didn't blame him; she couldn't think of much to say, either. They had stared at each other like they had the day before, exchanging thoughts with glances rather than with words. Her mother had coughed, their gaze was broken. He had handed her the dress and nodded, eyes searching her own in earnest, as if pleading with her, somehow. She had had resisted the urge to kiss him, and she nearly laughed out loud in shock right there in the shop. Laurie had never been so compelled by the desire to commit an action like she had that day. It wasn't the action itself that made her laugh, but the thought of her mother dying of a heart attack that made for a strangely comedic moment. Horrifying, to say the least, but so funny all the same.

Her mother had ushered her home and told her to put away the dress for later. Laurie, busy with her own life at night, had all but forgotten about the dress. Today, it was her birthday, and Laurie had finally picked it up after all this time. She had run her fingers over the fabric, admiring the work. When she unzipped the dress, inside she found a small note, tucked in the lining. Laurie had paused in shock and apprehension. Slowly, her fingers found the paper and slipped it out from where it had been hidden.

"For Laurie--" it had read. Just two words, written in quick strokes. Why did it feel like they conveyed more than mere two words should?

Laurie laughed to herself, feeling a little silly. She was getting giddy over two words. They didn't mean anything, after all. "For Laurie". Anybody could have written those words and they would have meant just that. The dress was for her -- even that stuffy old shop owner knew _that_. What else would anybody write on a note affixed to the dress but that? If someone else had walked in and ordered a dress, it would have been for them and addressed as such. Just because _he_ happened to make the dress didn't mean anything.

But he had made it for her. Made it _for _her. For _her_. Laurie. He had remembered her name.

Well, no big deal, she had remembered his as well.

Oh, but _she_ knew how she felt.

"Laurie? Are you ready?" asked her mother. Laurie nearly screamed.

"Y-Yes," she said, eyes wide. She was sure her mother knew, somehow. She knew everything. Suddenly, she felt very ashamed of herself.

"You look beautiful darling," said her mother, approaching her to put a kiss on her cheek. She smelled nice, comforting. Suddenly Laurie wanted to bury her face in her mother's neck like she used to years ago. She wanted her mother to hold her and stroke her hair like she did before she turned thirteen and suddenly had to be a lady.

Laurie avoided her mother's eyes. They weren't as close as they used to be, but her mother still knew her too well. She didn't want her to know. Not now, especially not now when everything was new and so easily crushed. They walked downstairs together, Laurie admiring the way the sun shone through her mother's hair, lighting it up like amber. Red. Like his hair. Laurie blushed and looked away. She noticed that morning's paper on the table, untouched so far. She could make out the headlines and she was nervous. Her mother, oblivious, continued to speak words to her that in this moment, seemed distant and alien.

"CRIME FIGHTING DUO TAKES DOWN CRIME LORD" the headlines read. Laurie was amazed at how similar the words were to the ones she had dreamed up, those months ago. She glanced up at her mother, who was looking at her expectantly. Laurie realized she had just asked her a question.

"I'm sorry mom, I wasn't listening," Laurie admitted.

Sally sighed.

"I asked you if you wanted to take your jacket outside, dear."

Laurie shook her head. Suddenly she didn't feel like going to the restaurant. She wanted her mother to see the paper. _She_ wanted to see the paper. All she could see was the headline and she wanted to read it, see the picture. At the same time, she didn't want to bring attention to it. Her mother needed to discover it herself. Laurie felt ridiculous. After all this, she was getting nervous? Rorschach would shake his head at her if he could see her now.

Laurie nodded to herself and followed her mother outside. She would brave this dinner, give her mother company, and they would come home and her mother would see the paper. It was simple, really. Her mother's reaction didn't matter because it was her idea to begin with. But suddenly Laurie had an awful thought: What if her mother forbade her from going out? What if she was so angry with her secret, she locked up Laurie and _never_ let her go crime fighting again? This thought came as a shock to Laurie. After all, this would have been something Laurie would have wanted even half a year before. Suddenly, the crime fighting life she had fought so strongly against was everything to her. Somehow she had made it hers, and having that taken away from her was a terrifying thought. Laurie stared at Sally with wide, dismayed eyes, but her mother seemed not to notice. She merely smiled at her daughter and took her arm, leading her into the car.

They returned hours later, and Laurie felt as if they had been gone for days. Her mother was saying something to her, but Laurie couldn't hear any of it. Tears burned at her eyes as she stood in the kitchen awkwardly as her mother put up her jacket and purse. Laurie tried to imagine how Rorschach would look as she explained to him that her mother had forbidden her from ever going outside again. _What, after all that work to get you in the papers?_ His voice came out strangely mocking in her head. She was horrified to find him laughing, too. Yes, he would laugh, wouldn't he?

Laurie brushed a tear away with the back of her hand. She was such a miserable failure, and he had every right to laugh at her. But it bothered her that he disliked her so much. No, didn't dislike -- was just ambivalent. She was sure she was some great amusement to him, some specimen of stupidity that he liked to string along just to see what idiotic thing she would do next. She jolted as if slapped, surprised by her line of thought. She was angry and upset at herself, but somehow all this didn't seem right. Rorschach wasn't that bad, was he?

Her mother turned and said something to her, and Laurie had to shake her head, blinking.

"I'm sorry, what?" asked Laurie.

"I asked if you wanted some tea, dear," said Sally, giving her a strange look. "Are you all right?"

"Yes please, and yes," said Laurie. She sat down at the table, eyeing the newspaper with a look of longing. Laurie sighed and willed that awful, ugly feeling away. No, only good things would come from the paper. She was overreacting. Her mother could be bad, but she wasn't _that_ bad. She wasn't Laurence.

Laurie glared to the side at the thought of that name. She hadn't seen him since she was seven, but the thought of him still made her angry. No, it wasn't Rorschach who would laugh at her like that; say those things. That wasn't Rorschach's voice -- it was Laurence's. Laurie felt a bitterness rise up in her chest at the thought of that man who tried to ruin everything in her life. Even now, when he had been gone nearly a decade, his hold on her remained. No matter what she had done, that man had always hated her. She could never figure out why, until one day, he had told her. In a fit of anger, he had admitted it to her.

"You aren't even my daughter."

Such simple words, tinged with bitterness and anger, cold anger. He had uttered these words to her when she was only six. Then he told her he hated her. Hated her because she looked like _his_. Back then she didn't know what that implied. Now she knew, and it made her angry that he would say things like that to a little girl. How much hatred could someone have to be so cruel to a small child? Even now, the extent of the damage he had done would show up in the strangest places, when she would displace his hatred onto her mother, and even now, onto her friend, Rorschach. Her mother insisted on the difficult approach to things at times, but Laurie knew she still loved her. Rorschach, as standoffish as he was would never say those things she imagined. He might be truthful, yes, too truthful at times, but never hateful, like Laurence.

Laurence. She was glad that man was out of her life.

Sally turned and smiled at her daughter, setting two mugs of tea down on the table and joining her. Laurie smiled back as if waking from a daze.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Laurie?" asked her mother. "Do you need to tell me something?"

Laurie gave her an enigmatic glance and sipped her tea. Her mother regarded her for a moment. If Laurie would have been able to see herself, she would have marvelled at how much older she had looked right then. Sally shook her head and finally looked down at the paper. She unfolded it.

"Oh look honey, more masked--..." Sally frowned. She looked at Laurie, then down at the paper again.

The kitchen was silent, apart from the sound of the clock ticking in the hall outside, and Laurie tried not to sweat in her nice dress. Finally, her mother looked up.

"Laurie. What's this?" she asked, holding up the article.

Laurie jumped to read it, eager and excited. There was the headline, spread out the same as before, and... the picture. Yes, the picture. Laurie smiled widely. There she was, clear as day, Rorschach next to her, Big Figure looking quite frustrated and annoyed, between them. She looked up to find her mother staring at her expectantly.

"Well..." said Laurie, gulping a little. "You know how you said I should wait until I was older? Well, I really wanted to be a masked crime fighter just like you, mom."

Laurie felt bad about twisting the facts a little, but she wasn't stupid. She didn't want her mother to blow her top and have her lose her only hope. As carried away Laurie had gotten with her imagination, she didn't want there to be any chance of it coming true. Sally pursed her lips and for a moment Laurie wondered if she would get angry, afterall. Then Sally smiled.

"Oh, that's... wonderful," said her mother. "So great."

"Thanks mom," said Laurie, giving her the most angelic look she could muster.

"My little girl out fighting crime, that's great," Sally tried again. She reread the news article. "Nightshade, huh? That's pretty. I like it."

Laurie almost sighed out loud in relief. Maybe she was going to get out of this unscathed, after all.

"Who is this, though? Your boyfriend?"

Laurie blinked and for one strange, confusing moment thought her mother was referring to Big Figure. She stood up to look at the picture again. No, her mother meant Rorschach, of course. She squinted at the picture. She didn't remember standing so close to him.

"Uh," said Laurie, feeling embarrassed now that she had taken so long to reply, "That's Rorschach. We fight crime together."

"Mm," said her mother, looking at the picture, then at her daughter. "That's nice."

"I hope you're not mad at me."

"No, not at all," Sally smiled. "In fact, I want to meet all your crime fighting friends. Were you able to meet any of the others? How about Nite Owl II? Hollis speaks so fondly of him."

"Err, yes... I've spoken to him before."

"And your... friend, here." Sally studied the print. "Rorschach. I'd like to see him sometime. You should invite him to dinner."

Laurie stared at her mother. She obviously didn't know Rorschach if she was going to make a ridiculous proposition like that. Laurie tried to imagine Rorschach leaning over the table stuffing himself full of food. For some reason in her mind he was just doing it through the mask, somehow. For a split second, to her that mask _was_ his face. It was a bizarre image, and after a moment she realized she was giving her mother an almost crazed look. Her mother was smirking at her.

"I'm going to go out now. To fight crime," said Laurie, suddenly. As strange as this conversation was, she was glad it was all out in the air and she didn't have to worry anymore. "Bye mom."

Sally looked like she was going to say something to stop her, but she just nodded and smiled.

"Well, you have fun, honey."

"Thanks."

"And don't forget to use protection!" said her mother, laughing to herself as if she had just said something funny.

Laurie scratched her head at that. Did her mother expect her to carry firearms now? Who did she think she was; the Comedian?

-----

To be continued...


	10. Chapter 10

Ch. 10

Walter had framed the newspaper article. As Rorschach, he didn't know what to think of the gesture.

It had started to rain a little as he kept an eye out for Nightshade. They hadn't agreed to meet at their usual location, but waiting for her had become a habit. For a moment he wondered if she would turn up. After all, they _had_ captured Big Figure, and she had gotten her mention in the papers. He was sure her mother knew now. Would she care to fight crime anymore? Women were fickle creatures. Maybe after this, the excitement would wear off and she would return to her normal life and forget about this one. It was quite unfortunate; she had a good left kick. He heard loud running steps in the distance but thought it couldn't be her. She had learned to be stealthier than that. Wondering if it was someone in trouble, he turned towards the source of the sound and was mildly surprised to find Nightshade running up to him. Rorschach ignored the bounce in her step and other places.

"Rorschach," said Nightshade, gasping for breath.

Nightshade came up to him at last, panting with the effort of her run. After composing herself, she folded her arms and looked at him with wide eyes, posture slightly hunched. She was standing closer to him than usual. Rorschach thought maybe she was drunk, somehow. Then he saw a shiver go through her and he realized she was cold. Of course, the rain.

"Let's go," he suggested, hoping that if they were constantly moving she would stop feeling so cold.

They passed a hobo in the street, then a couple moving fast with their heads ducked low to avoid the rain. Some idiot who attempted to write graffiti on the wall gave up halfway when his spray can stopped working as the rain came down harder. Rorschach scared him away. The rain was pouring buckets now. Rorschach was annoyed. He ushered Nightshade to stand under a ledge with him, then the wind began as if to signal the torrential downpour that followed. He had to give up and take her to a nearby storage facility instead. They climbed inside a unit and stood around in silence. There was no light source inside, but outside there were several lamp posts giving enough illumination through the windows to cast shadows and provide enough light that it was almost as if there was interior lighting. Nightshade looked around for a moment, then took off her mask and started to ring out her hair. Rorschach gawked at her and she looked at him and shrugged.

"It's not like you don't already vaguely know who I am," she said. "My name's Laurie, by the way."

Rorschach looked at her warily, afraid she would expect for him to introduce and reveal him own identity in return. She looked too busy trying to brush water droplets off of her outfit. He worried that she would feel compelled to take that off, too. She didn't, of course. Then he felt like a cad for being a little disappointed. Rorschach suddenly took great interest in looking around the building, poking at boxes and determining that the objects stored here were all machinery parts. He sat down on a long box that held a crane arm. Nightshade, no, Laurie -- no mask right now -- walked over and sat down next to him.

"My mother saw the article," she said. She was smiling, but she sounded wistful.

"Is that good?" he asked her. The warmth of the building after the cold air outside was making her face flush. It made her intriguing to look at.

"I think so."

The rain thundered down on the roof above them. Rorschach wished it would stop and they could leave the place. Laurie was looking down.

"You know..." she trailed off, looked away, then at him again. "I've been meaning to ask you."

Rorschach froze, feeling like a bird trapped in a cage who had only just now realized it. His heart was thundering in his chest and he was sure she could hear it. It was as if the rain had suddenly torn open the ceiling and was now pounding down onto his back and head, draining him and pinning him down.

"Remember when I asked if we could team up?" she continued. "I was wondering if you were still up for that."

Rorschach felt relief as if the sky had lifted off of him.

"Yes."

"Because you know, we were doing so well with..." Laurie looked up. "Wait, what?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Underboss is still on the run."

"Oh." she laughed, as if nervous. "Right, of course."

"Partners until we capture Underboss."

"All right," Laurie smiled. "Until then, I'll convince you yet."

Oh, he was convinced. He was just hoping they would never find Underboss again. Sloppy thinking, of course, but he couldn't help but want it nevertheless. He watched her look down, then away, then at him again. She seemed to do that quite often. She still looked flushed and he himself agreed inwardly that the room was just too warm. Silence stretched on and though they were often this quiet when on a case, in this room with some expectation for conversation, the air was awkward.

"It's my birthday today," Laurie told him.

Rorschach nodded. He really didn't know how to keep small talk like this going.

"How old?" he asked, finally.

"Sixteen." she blushed a little and looked at him with bright eyes. Color slowly transferred from her face to her lips, making them look red. He studied them carefully.

The rain had quieted a little, but still continued on. Rorschach shifted nervously in his seat. Suddenly he didn't know what to do with his hands. He put them in his lap and clenched them tightly. He closed his eyes despite himself and willed the rain to go away. When he opened his eyes minutes later, the rain was still coming down. Laurie laughed suddenly and he looked at her and regretted it. He wished she would put on her mask and become Nightshade again. Things were easier that way.

"My mother, of all things, suggested that we have you over for dinner," she told him.

Rorschach paused for a moment. What he heard had sounded so surreal for a second he had wondered if this was a strange dream.

"I mean, I know you don't have to say yes or well, anything, even," said Laurie. "I just thought it was an odd request."

Rorschach studied her profile as she looked down at her hands. He would like to do that -- be normal and go to dinner at a friend's house. He had never done that before. He didn't like her mother very much, however, and being trapped in a room with her was an unappealing thought.

"Do you even eat?" asked Laurie suddenly, then she laughed out loud. "I'm sorry, what am I saying?"

"I don't, actually," said Rorschach, feeling possessed with an unfamiliar feeling. "I sustain myself through the blood of our fallen foes."

Laurie laughed as if that was the funniest thing in the world. Rorschach felt driven as if by electricity and couldn't stop the words from falling out.

"In fact, I don't sleep," he told her. "In the morning I turn into vapors that possess evil in the form of guilt. Then I coalesce into a physical form at nightfall to exact justice."

She was laughing too hard. It couldn't be that funny. He was starting to laugh too, when he realized something and jumped up.

"Rain has stopped now, should go," he told her in a polite tone. Laurie stared at him with an indiscernible expression. Then she nodded and sat up to put her mask on again.

"Where are we going?" she asked him.

_I don't know, away from here_, he almost said to her. Then he held his hands out as if to placate her, somehow.

"Just making a round," he said. She nodded. Rounds were good. They were safe and familiar.

They went out into the night together, the air crisp and fresh now after the rain. Water slowly dripped from the trees and building ledges around them. The streets were empty. It seemed the criminals had taken their activities indoors. Rorschach briefly considered the Comedian's suggestion of picking buildings at random to burst into. He saw two familiar figures up ahead and almost grabbed Nightshade and ran in the opposite direction. No, that would be ridiculous. Ahead of them were Ozymandias and Nite Owl II though, and he really didn't feel like talking to them.

Not that he ever had.

"Hello again," said Nite Owl II first this time.

"Hi," said Nightshade, warily.

"We saw your article in the papers -- Big Figure. Pretty exciting." Nite Owl II smiled. "We were actually in the middle of tracking him."

"Thanks." She looked at Rorschach, who shrugged.

Uncomfortable pause.

"So, uh, what are you boys working on now?" Nightshade asked out of common courtesy.

Nite Owl II lit up as if he had been waiting for this question.

"Actually, we think Moloch the Mystic might be back in town again," he said.

"Oh?" This time, Nightshade actually seemed interested.

"Yes, we'd been hearing rumors, really, but last night, we found this."

Nite Owl II held up what looked like a small calling card then walked up to Nightshade to show her.

"Wow," said Laurie, taking the card from him. Their hands touched, briefly, and Rorschach felt cold.

Nite Owl II was smiling down at her, and Rorschach didn't like how close he was standing to her. Ozymandias, he wouldn't mind, but Nite Owl II, no. Rorschach practically squeezed in between them, brushing against both of them in the process. Nightshade looked up to show him the card. He nodded at it, then turned and stared at Nite Owl II until he moved away with a perturbed expression on his face.

"We were contacted by Captain Metropolis," said Ozymandias mildly. "If this Moloch threat is real, he wants to have a meeting of some kind in the next few months. He's gathering information even now, seeing how many people like us are interested."

"Oh," said Nightshade. "Is Moloch really that much of a threat?"

"I suppose not." There was a small smile on Ozymandias' lips. "Though it has been quite a long time since a costumed supervillain has made an appearance."

"True, but I guess it does seem like overkill," said Nightshade.

"Perhaps he wishes to discuss other matters." Ozymandias looked at his partner, who nodded.

"Maybe Moloch is just the beginning; the key that brings us all together," said Nite Owl II. Ozymandias nodded at him this time. They looked so in sync and aware of the other. Rorschach wondered if he and Nightshade looked that complementary.

"Oh well, back to work I suppose," said Nite Owl II. "Unless you guys want to join us."

"No, we're happy on our own, thanks," said Nightshade sweetly. Rorschach wondered if she was flirting with him. He decided that she actually was being mildly sarcastic.

"Farewell," said Ozymandias. It seemed the two men were regarding them quite apprehensively now. Good. Maybe they would stop bothering them for once.

Rorschach and Nightshade waited until the two men were out of sight.

"Do you think Captain Metropolis is going to band us all together?" asked Nightshade. "You know, like the Minutemen?"

"Maybe."

She frowned.

"We don't have to join," he told her.

"Well, it's just that..." she paused. "My mother might be eager about making me join."

"Attend the first day, then decline afterwards."

"Yeah, all right..." she looked thoughtful, then turned to him with a grin. "You know what would be funny? If we found Moloch before Ozzy and Friend."

Rorschach nodded. He liked this proposal. Anything that would delay their discovery of the Underboss.

-----

To be continued...


	11. Chapter 11

Ch. 11

Laurie looked down at herself and fumed.

Things had been looking up for her. For months she and Rorschach had been trailing Moloch, tidying up the messes he made. They even took down a crime syndicate. Unrelated, but a great victory, nonetheless. They had started to make a name for themselves. Rorschach seemed to have accepted the fact that he was going to be in the papers whether he liked it or not. He seemed to be getting increasingly receptive to any suggestions she made to him. Laurie, who had been curious about why uncle Nelly -- Captain Metropolis -- had contacted Ozymandias first and not her had finally run into him. He had been incredibly excited about his upcoming plans to gather up the "Crimebusters" for his proposal. Her mother, who had taken a keen interest in all of Laurie's exploits, had jumped at the chance.

"But mother, I would look ridiculous going in there dressed like that," Laurie had told her mother.

"Honey, it's just for one day. I think it would be quaint if you could put on this costume," had been her reply.

"Quaint" was not the word Laurie had for what her mother had made for her. It was an updated version of Sally's old Silk Spectre dress. What she gave Laurie made the original outfit look modest in comparison. Laurie was disgusted to say the least.

"Why would I dress up as Silk Spectre II if I'm not Silk Spectre II?" asked Laurie, exasperated.

"It's for old time's sake, Laurie, honestly what's gotten into you?"

That little disagreement had quickly turned into a full blown argument. At first, her mother had turned on the waterworks, making Laurie feel guilty for not being a good daughter and putting on what was practically lingerie. Then her mother had become angry and forceful. She threatened to ground her daughter so she would miss the meeting if she didn't go in the suit. Laurie almost decided to stay inside, but the meeting was too important to her. She knew Rorschach wanted to go, just for curiosity's sake, and he wasn't going to be happy in there by himself with Ozymandias and Nite Owl II chumming it up in the room. Finally, Laurie had agreed to her mother's demands, figuring that she would somehow sneak her normal costume on when she was outside.

Her mother had made sure that did not happen. She had hired a limousine just to drive Laurie to the meeting personally. Another insult to this whole situation. Not only was Laurie going to wear these skimpy clothes, her mother was driving her to the meeting as if she was a kid on her first day of school.

Laurie was quite upset by now. How was anybody going to take her seriously in this outfit? She kept trying to pull down what she could to cover her lower half but found nothing to pull down and sighed, embarrassed. She could just imagine Mr. Perfect and Mr. Brilliant (Ozymandias and Nite Owl II) staring at her in incomprehension. Oh God, Rorschach -- he was going to have a seizure, probably. She had already been given an earful by her mother and she wasn't dying for another from Rorschach, either. She just couldn't imagine things getting worse.

"All right Laurie, here we are," said her mother, looking nearly deranged in her chipper mood, especially compared to that morning's dramatics. "Go break a leg, sweetie."

Laurie got out of the car and wished she would break her legs -- then nobody would be paying attention to what she was wearing. Her mother drove away. Laurie didn't even bother to double check if she was going into the right building. She just started walking up the steps that happened to be in front of her. Suddenly, there was a blur and she almost toppled backwards as Rorschach hung over her like some sort of twisted scarecrow.

"What are you wearing?" he asked. The way he said it sounded as if he had found her eating human remains and was asking her what she was eating.

"_Underwear_!" she shouted at him, face turning scarlet. Usually he would have been taken aback by an outburst like this; she knew him well enough to expect that. But no, he was angry, she could tell. His mask was darker than it normally was. Well, she was angry too.

"I cannot believe it," he said, voice turning low, shifting in tone as if to match the patterns on his mask. "Do you even realize..."

"How much like a prostitute I look?"

There, she had said it for him. Laurie wanted to cry. This was humiliating.

"No," he flinched, as if stung. Then he added, "But it is utterly inappropriate."

"Yes, I know." She looked away. "I'm sorry."

He cocked his head, obviously surprised.

"My _mother_ made me wear it," she told him bitterly. "But I'm _not_ going to wear it again, you hear me? So stop looking at me like I'm something rotten and give me a break!"

Laurie gestured wildly with her arm in her anger. Her arm swung out behind her and connected with something, hard.

"_Fuck_!"

Laurie turned, startled. The Comedian was behind her. He had been, in mid-climb, standing on a lower step and her on a higher one. At this height she had managed to hit him in the face. The Comedian looked impossibly angry, his eyes smoldering with an unfathomable rage that frightened Laurie. For a moment she was afraid that he would kill her. Rorschach came down the steps and was suddenly between them as if to shield her. The Comedian moved his attention to him and his anger melted away only to be replaced by a bright smile.

"Why, if it isn't the fourteen year olds!" he laughed. Then he turned to Laurie. "I didn't recognize you in that thing you're wearing."

"I'm really sorry about that," said Laurie. She was relieved that he no longer looked like he was emanating murder and felt silly for thinking he would be angry enough to hurt her.

"Nah, it's all right." He lit up a cigar and began to puff away. "Say, whatever happened to--"

"_Laurie_!"

Laurie jumped at the unexpected sound of her mother's voice. She was even more startled by the expression on her mother's face.

"Hi, Sal," said the Comedian, looking just as startled as she felt. "Long time no see."

"Not long enough in my book, Eddie," said Sally. "Laurel Jane, you come over here _right now_."

Laurie held out her hands to first the Comedian, then to Rorschach. Flabbergasted, she couldn't even apologize to them for her mother's strange behavior. Sally didn't seem to like how long she was taking -- she grabbed Laurie by the arm and practically pulled her down the stairs.

"Are there no depths you won't sink to?" Sally said, turning to the Comedian. Her finger was in his face and he looked at it, making his eyes go cross-eyed in the process.

"What the hell are you talking about, Sally?" he asked.

"You know what I'm talking about, _Edward_." Sally wiped at her eyes. "Stop acting like you don't know."

The Comedian looked at Sally, then at Laurie. A look of disbelief passed over his features and suddenly he was staring at Laurie with eyes that were glimmering with a recognition she didn't understand.

"_You stay away from her_," said her mother in a voice she had never heard her use. Then she was grabbed roughly away from the building, into the street, then to the limousine.

"Mom, what--" Laurie was shoved inside, her mother slamming the door behind her. Sally got into the driver's seat and began to drive very quickly away from the building.

Laurie looked back. The Comedian was still standing there, cigar forgotten in the corner of his mouth. Rorschach looked like he hadn't moved since he had first stepped between her and the Comedian.

"Mother, what was that about?" asked Laurie. Suddenly she felt very angry. First this costume, then her mother was acting crazy in front of the people she needed to work with. Her mother had caused an unbelievable spectacle before she had taken her away from them.

Laurie's mother broke down and started to sob, frightening Laurie. She had never cried like that in front of her before, not even when Laurence had left her. Sally pulled the limousine to the side of the road and continued to wail bitterly, as if someone dear to her had just died. Laurie was in shock.

"Mom, I..."

"Oh Laurie, if only you knew..."

Her mother began to tell her things between her sobs and Laurie felt compelled to listen. Her mother told her of her life. She had had a bad life. Laurie always thought her mother was hard on her, but it seemed her grandmother was worse to her mother. Sally spoke of poverty, how difficult it was at the beginning, how she found solace in her one dream: to become famous for something she thought was all she had -- her looks. She spoke of the Minutemen, the scandals, the hardships, and above all of Edward Blake, the Comedian. Laurie didn't understand the things her mother was telling her. Sally told her in jumbled words of his brutality, of the sick things he was capable of, but she didn't actually go into detail, only painting images in Laurie's mind that seemed too outlandish to be true. She told her how he had done something terrible. One last bad thing -- something so bad he had to be kicked out of the Minutemen.

Laurie felt awful.

"But mother, why didn't you ever tell me?" she asked, finally. "I've talked to him before. I never knew."

"Oh, Laurie -- it'd been so long, I just... I didn't think you would ever meet him."

Laurie nodded. She looked ahead of her, unable to look her mother in her blurry eyes. She looked at street and the people walking by. They made no notice of the limousine parked at an angle with the young girl and her mother with the tear-stained face. Laurie felt that familiar old feeling creeping up on her again -- the one that made her want to run away and far.

"Mom..." said Laurie slowly, afraid she would upset her mother. "If the Comedian is so bad... why did uncle Nelly invite him to this meeting?"

Sally wiped her eyes and sniffed.

"Well, Nelson can have... strange opinions. His judgment can be a little off at times."

Laurie nodded again.

"I'm sorry mom. I really am."

"Oh, I'm sorry too, darling. I'm sorry for putting you through this. Heavens knows what made me think it was a good idea to make you wear that outfit."

"It's okay."

"No, I'm really sorry, Laurie." Sally leaned in and kissed her forehead. Then she hugged her. "You can wear whatever you want and do whatever you want. I just want you to be safe, that's all."

Laurie nodded, hugging her mother close to her.

"I love you sweetheart," her mother whispered.

"I love you too, mom," said Laurie. She felt like crying herself.

-----

To be continued...


	12. Chapter 12

Ch. 12

It was a strange experience for Rorschach, standing there with a man he had previously only heard of and spoken to once in the docks. He and the Comedian, united for one instant through the one thing they had in common -- their utter bewilderment.

Rorschach watched the limousine peel away, wondering for one strange moment what would happen if he ran after it and caught up with it somehow, hanging onto the bumper and climbing on top until he reached the driver's seat and beat Laurie's mother senseless. Rorschach hated histrionic outbursts. Especially ones perpetrated by women who seemed to be distressed by something not apparently known because they had the inability to properly express themselves with coherence. Screaming did not equal cerebral expression. Vague sentences did not equal communication. To effectively convey one's emotions, one had to speak, and eloquently at that. Rorschach wasn't a master at showing how he felt, but he knew damn well to shut his mouth if he couldn't think of the right thing to say.

He turned away, surprised at how much he hated Laurie's mother. Nightshade's mother. Who cared? Silk Spectre. She was a woman who sold her body and as far as he was concerned, women like that deserved not even to lick their daily bread off the soles of his shoes. He had tried to like her --- for the sake of Nightshade; the woman who bore someone like that couldn't be half-bad. He should have known better. He knew that it didn't matter if a woman gave life to another. Giving birth didn't make a woman selfless and altruistic. No, most of them were whores who gave in to desire and lust and didn't know better than to open their legs and suffer the consequences. Nightshade's mother was no exception, and Rorschach had no mercy for her.

Beside him, Rorschach heard the Comedian mutter to himself. His cigar seemed to have gone out, and he was reaching down to light it. Rorschach noticed the tremor in his hand. It seemed his exchange with Sally Jupiter had gotten to him, too. The Comedian glanced at him, laughing weakly before he turned to leave.

"What's going on?" asked Captain Metropolis, as he came out of the double doors behind them. "Are you two coming in?"

"No Nelly, I'm going home, all right?" said the Comedian, as if Captain Metropolis had asked him that question a thousand times before and he was sick of hearing it.

"Oh, uh, well if you might permit me to walk with you, why don't I tell you my plans for the city?"

"Why don't you go fuck yourself, Nelly?"

Captain Metropolis stopped in his tracks, stunned. The Comedian turned and looked at him with steely eyes.

"I don't need to hear what kind of shit you got planned in there -- whatever it is, I'm sure it's a load of crap -- you were always good at spewing it, Nelly. I don't even know why I showed up at this bullshit meeting."

Captain Metropolis was silent as the Comedian drew on his cigar with a flicker of soundless, bitter laughter caught in his eyes.

"I guess I just thought it was funny that after all these years, after kicking me out, you decided to invite me of all people to play cowboys and indians with all the little boys again."

"Eddie..."

"No, Nelson. I'm out. Whatever it is, count me out." The Comedian turned and began to walk away. "I'm getting too old for this shit."

Captain Metropolis turned and looked at Rorschach as if for the first time.

"I just..." he began, as if to explain himself to Rorschach, but the doors opened behind them again and the others came streaming out.

"What's going on?" asked Nite Owl II. "Is something the matter?"

"Should reschedule meeting for later," Rorschach told Captain Metropolis. The retired military officer seemed to have been on shaky ground from the start. The Comedian's words seemed to have crushed him somehow, and now his previous resolve was broken and he seemed unable to function, at least for now.

"Err, yes, of course, later." Captain Metropolis nodded then turned to the others. "I'm sorry, but we will have to reconvene at a later date due to some... difficult circumstances."

"I hope everything's all right," said Ozymandias. In the sunlight his hair and armor shone brightly, making him look untainted, pure, and full of good intentions. He seemed genuinely concerned.

"Yes, I... need to think some things over, I think," said Captain Metropolis, shaking his head.

"Well, keep us updated, Nelly," said Nite Owl II. "Here, let me help you get your things."

Ozymandias followed Captain Metropolis and Nite Owl II back into the building. Boyscouts. Rorschach shook his head before doing a double-take. He was surprised to see Dr. Manhattan standing further back, his girlfriend hanging off of his arm. It was ironic that amidst it all, the glorious Dr. Manhattan had been the hardest being to spot.

"Are we going to have to come back to this place, Jon?" asked the girlfriend.

"It isn't supposed to happen like this," said Dr. Manhattan. He looked and sounded as if he were far away, in another world, even. He didn't seem to have even heard the words that had been spoken to him. He smiled. "How... fascinating."

Rorschach was unimpressed. As much as he had heard of Dr. Manhattan's powers from many sources, he seemed like just another man, and an unimportant one to him. He was more concerned about Laurie. Nightshade. He still couldn't figure out what her mother had been trying to say, but he was nervous that it meant the end of her crime fighting career. Dejected, he slumped away from the building, wishing that they had never agreed to this meeting. Things were better when it was just him and his friend.

She didn't come back that night, but the next night she returned to him. Rorschach was relieved to find her out of the unmentionally disgusting outfit and back as Nightshade.

"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday," she said to him. Her eyes looked glassy, as if she had been crying.

"Forget about it," he told her.

She nodded, looking away.

"I've been thinking about all the things my mother said to me, and I still don't understand half of it, Rorschach." She looked at him again. "She said these things, about the Comedian in particular, but she never really told me anything specific. I don't know what to think."

Rorschach paused for a moment. She hadn't read Hollis Mason's book, he recalled. He had, however, and he had an idea what Sally had been referring to. He understood now. Rorschach felt a little bad about the ill-will he had been harboring towards Nightshade's mother. That didn't mean he approved of the way she had handled the situation, however. And his opinion of her character had not changed.

"She seems to think that he would hurt me, somehow." Nightshade said, finally.

"He won't."

Rorschach didn't say this because he thought that the Comedian had made a false move on his part. He didn't seem like the type -- Rorschach wasn't the expert on rapists, but he was certain, nonetheless -- whatever the Comedian had done back in those years, it seemed to be a moral lapse, nothing more.

No, Rorschach wasn't thinking about this when he spoke those two words to Nightshade. Rorschach was thinking about how he would kill the Comedian if he attempted to touch her. The thought came to him instinctively, as if it was natural to react in that regard. But no, he was certain he wouldn't have to resort to anything drastic. The Comedian seemed to think of them as children, as irksome as that was to Rorschach personally, the older man was harmless. Explosive temper, but essentially harmless -- towards them, at least.

"Why don't we get some work done tonight?" Nightshade asked him. "You won't believe how much I missed it in the night I was gone."

Rorschach nodded. He had missed it too. He hadn't skipped his duties like she had, of course, but by himself it just wasn't the same. The two walked on together, a comfortable silence between them as they both seemed to enjoy the quiet night. They apprehended a particularly repulsive old hobo who was trying to steal a woman's purse. They gave some gang members a hard time and found an easy rest of the night. They were walking through a high-scale neighborhood on the lookout for a catburglar that had been hitting that area when they saw a dark figure near the trees. Rorschach recognized it immediately. He had seen the burning embers from his cigar.

"Oh," said Nightshade, stopping in surprise.

"Hey," said the Comedian. There was something strange about the way he was holding himself, and when he passed Rorschach to come closer to Nightshade he smelled the liquor on him. Rorschach looked around and wondered if the Comedian had been following them. It disturbed him to think he had gone by without their noticing him -- all the while intoxicated, too.

"Hi," Nightshade said nervously. She turned to look at Rorschach with wide eyes. He nodded to her and she seemed to relax a little.

"So, you're Sally's kid, huh?" asked the Comedian. He looked weary and seemed all too morose in manner to be his normal self. "Surprised when I found out -- had to come see you up close. See your face."

"My mother said you did bad things," Nightshade told him. "I'm not sure if I should be talking to you."

He laughed bitterly.

"Yeah, I guess I wouldn't be talking to me either. No offense little girl, didn't want to come off like some creep. I just needed to see. Had to see, that's all."

Nightshade looked up at the huge man who was looking down at her with those troubled eyes and something else that Rorschach noticed. Rorschach tensed up for a moment when he saw that look -- that odd look that was a mixture of grief and longing and something else that he didn't understand.

Unbelievable. Was the Comedian some kind of pervert? Was he getting some high out of looking at Sally Juspeczyk's young daughter? Rorschach had half a mind to throw himself against him. The Comedian was known to be a dirty fighter and Rorschach wasn't quite certain if he could take him even in one-to-one combat, but Rorschach had the advantage of not being inebriated.

Nightshade seemed to be entranced. The Comedian was close, too close for comfort, but she didn't seem to mind. His hand was on her chin now, lifting up her face to see it in the moonlight. Rorschach was disgusted. What was the man doing? This girl was half his age. He was old enough to be her father.

Rorschach paused.

No.

It couldn't be. Could it...?

Rorschach tried to view the situation with this new idea in his mind. The Comedian and Silk Spectre's shared past not witholding, he played yesterday's scene again in his head. The emotions from Nightshade's mother. The look on the Comedian's face. That way he regarded Nightshade _now_. Goodness, they even looked similar. How come he had never noticed? It had to be true. Rorschach was certain of it.

He also couldn't believe it.

Rorschach was going to investigate. Then he would tell Nightshade. She deserved to know. If this was true, she had every right to know.

All children deserved to know their fathers.

-----

To be continued...


	13. Chapter 13

Ch. 13

Laurie tiptoed around in her room, afraid she would disturb her mother. Her mother, who had become grief-stricken after the first Crimebusters meeting half a year ago had taken up drinking sometime between then and now. Laurie was shocked -- her mother had never been the drinking sort. When she was younger, she had heard snippets of conversation here and there between her mother and her old friends. It seemed back in the day, Sally had loved to drink. Laurie was worried that she was reverting to her old ways, and worse. It seemed like her mother was hardly ever around now. She would drink and sleep or drink and fall into despondence about the past. Or worse, she would cry and then push Laurie away if she attempted to comfort her mother. Laurie really didn't know what to do.

Laurie wanted more than anything to tell Rorschach, but at the same time she didn't want to burden him with the details. Rorschach had made it pretty clear to Laurie that he strongly disliked her mother. Laurie couldn't help but feel a little protective of Sally. Even if she didn't agree with some of the things her mother did, she was still her mother. Laurie didn't want to give Rorschach another reason to hate her mother on top of everything else that was going on.

The second Crimebusters meeting was today. Well, first really, since the other one had technically never commenced. Uncle Nelly seemed to have finally come around and he was even more optimistic than before. After how the first meeting went, Laurie was afraid that her mother would somehow ruin this too, so she sneaked out of the house dressed as Nightshade this time. Rorschach was waiting for her, holding what looked like a garment under his arm.

"What is that?" Laurie asked him, suspicious.

He held it up to her. It looked like a jacket. She gave him a querulous glance. Rorschach often expected her to read his mind. Sometimes she did, but his mind usually ran in odd directions and oftentimes it was hard to get anything through with him, especially when he was in one of his moods. Laurie folded her arms and looked at him expectantly.

"In case you dressed in the unseemly clothes," he explained.

Laurie couldn't help but laugh at that. Of course if there was anyone who was more traumatized by the previous incident than she, it was Rorschach.

"Thanks but no need," she told him, feeling especially endeared towards her friend. She reached around him to squeeze his shoulder. Rorschach looked at her hand then at her. This simple response made her feelings for him well up and bubble over.

"Aw, Rorschach," said Laurie, moving her other arm over to give him a brief, tight hug. "You're such a good friend, you know that?"

Laurie pulled away, judging Rorschach at arm's length. He had gone silent, and the patterns on his mask were swirling lazily, not really giving her anything to gauge his reaction with. She felt a little foolish now -- she didn't mean to embarrass him or offend him in any manner. She had just spoken to truth. He was his best and only friend, sad as it was. He and her mother were all she had in her life.

"Drugs. Again," he said, finally, then shook himself as if from a deep slumber.

Laurie laughed and smiled at him. Rorschach quickly moved out of the way as if she would hug him again. That made her laugh even harder as they made their way inside the building. Ozymandias, Nite Owl II, and Captain Metropolis looked up as they entered.

"Hi," said Laurie, blinking. "Are we early, or the only ones?"

"The only ones," said Captain Metropolis. "The Comedian declined, and Dr. Manhattan is too concerned with other matters, I'm afraid."

"Oh." Laurie felt guilty. She hoped that the Comedian hadn't been driven away by her mother's threats. It seemed silly to think someone like that would be afraid of her mother. Then again, her mother could be quite frightening at moments. No, the Comedian had talked to Laurie a couple of times after the incident. She knew he wasn't nervous about coming back here. She also felt slightly disappointed that Dr. Manhattan couldn't make it. He was a celebrity of sorts, and she had always wanted to see the indestructible man; America's super-powered hero.

"If we're all here, before we start..." Nite Owl II gestured to a camera he must have set up. "Why don't we take a picture? This is what Hollis did back in the day when they started the Minutemen."

Laurie sighed. If Hollis had jumped off of a building at some point, Nite Owl II would have, too. Nobody complained, however, including herself. They stood together with Captain Metropolis in the middle -- Ozymandias, Nite Owl II (he set the camera to auto), Captain Metropolis, Laurie, and Rorschach. Laurie wondered how the picture would turn out.

"All right, why don't we get started?" asked Captain Metropolis. He began talking about promiscuity, drugs, and campus subversion. Laurie felt as if they had become caught in some sort of bizarre lecture.

Rorschach leaned close to her, the brim of his hat brushing against her head. For a moment, Laurie felt nervous, certain that he was going to kiss her and in front of everybody, no less.

"Soon he's going to tell us he's tricked us and he's trying to make us join Ozymandias and Nite Owl II afterall," he whispered.

Laurie had to stifle her giggles. This close, she could hear that he was laughing softly too. They looked at each other for a second, but it seemed longer, somehow.

"Ahem," said Captain Metropolis. "Do you have any questions?"

"Uhh--," Laurie felt herself blush. It didn't help that Rorschach wasn't making any attempt to move away from her. She was all too aware of his hat, so close to grazing the top of her forehead, but she didn't want to move away either. "What do you think will help us clear out the streets?"

"Ah," Captain Metropolis brightened. "That's where you all come in. The Minutemen were made obsolete, made to feel useless, but the costumed avenger has made its comeback. It's time for us to emerge once again into this new era where they need us even more desperately than before. We will band together; the new Crimebusters united in our front against villainy."

Laurie thought he sounded like one of those old hero comic book characters from the 30's. She looked at Rorschach, who shook his head.

"I for one think it's a fantastic idea," said Nite Owl II. "Ozymandias and I have been cleaning up out there, and the more we show the imperative to team up with one another the better it will look to the public."

"That's just for looks, though," said Laurie. "I think working in pairs is a great idea, but at some point with too many people, it's going to get messy. Big numbers aren't always a good thing."

"Also, how much of this is merely for the public eye?" asked Rorschach. Laurie was surprised he had spoken. "All this seems like just an attempt to control our image. It didn't work for the Minutemen, and it certainly isn't going to work for us."

"I don't think Nelson is suggesting that we all participate in a weekly photo shoot," said Ozymandias. "We just need a place to get together once a month or periodically. We go out, fight, reconvene and compare reports, notes -- that sort of thing. Efficiency is the key word, I think."

"Well, if that's all there is, I don't have anything against it." Laurie looked at Rorschach, who nodded.

"So are we all in?" asked Nelly, who seemed as if he was going to cry with excitement.

"Yes Nelly, it looks like we are," laughed Nite Owl II.

And thus concluded their first official meeting of the Crimebusters. Kind of disappointing, really.

"I don't like the name Crimebusters," Laurie told Rorschach as they left the building. "It makes us sound like we're coming apart at the seams."

"It doesn't have to be our official name," said Ozymandias. Laurie was annoyed at him for eavesdropping.

"How is your search for Moloch?" she asked, changing the subject.

"We're making progress. I heard the Comedian was also tailing him."

"You know how he and Moloch have been rivals for the longest time," said Nite Owl II to Ozymandias. He turned to Laurie and smiled at her.

"Well, you guys can stop tailing _us, _because we're going to be on our way." Laurie smiled back, but she really wanted to punch Nite Owl II in the face. She wasn't entirely sure why, though. She saw Nite Owl II turn to Ozymandias and say something to him that she couldn't hear. Ozymandias shook his head, but he was still watching her and Rorschach. She studied them with curiosity as the two men parted and went their separate ways. Were they not working together anymore?

"So, my crime fighting friend, where are you taking us tonight?" asked Laurie.

"Found info on one of Moloch's vice-clubs. Should investigate."

"Okay," said Laurie, frowning. "So, uh, when you say 'vice-club', do you mean the same kind of vices the Twilight Lady is guilty for?"

Rorschach snorted a little.

"No," he said, softly. "Drugs, mostly."

"Oh, good." Laurie was relieved. She wasn't keen on storming a bondage club. She wasn't keen on storming a drug den either, but the latter seemed better because it didn't involve scantily clad women in bondage. She knew Rorschach became irrationally angry in the presence of the likes of these women and she matched his feeling with equal nervousness.

Rorschach and Laurie had only been walking for five minutes when an idea struck her.

"Wait," she said. "How were you able to find the time to look up this... vice-club? It was barely into the evening when we had the Crimebusters meeting. And we hadn't been searching for information yesterday."

"Out of costume," he told her.

"Oh." Laurie looked at him. Then she frowned and looked away.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"...What?"

"I wish we could, I don't know, see each other out of costume, that's all."

"That is highly inappropriate."

Laurie frowned at Rorschach, confused, until she realized what he was saying.

"No," she laughed. "Save your perverted thoughts to your self -- you know what I meant."

"Yes."

"Yes? That's it? Can't even tell me your name?"

Rorschach looked at her, but he didn't give her anything else, not even an answer. Laurie shook her head.

"Fair enough," she said, with a sigh. The pair walked on in silence. Laurie worried about her mother. She wondered what to expect when she got home. Rorschach stopped her, pulling her out of her thoughts. Laurie looked up to hear breaking glass and shouting.

"Is this the place?" asked Laurie. Rorschach nodded. He took the lead with her following closely. A man on fire ran by screaming, startling Laurie.

A figure was thrown out of the window in a building up ahead. Rorschach and Laurie watched for a moment to assess the situation before it all became apparent to them when the Comedian stepped out the door. A man was running out at the same time, trying to get past him. The Comedian was carrying a rifle -- he brought the heavy butt of it down onto the back of the man's head. The man didn't even make a sound as he fell, rolling down the rest of the way. The Comedian turned to the man he had thrown out the window and kicked him hard enough to break something -- Laurie could hear it even at this distance. Rorschach began to cautiously approach the scene, Laurie behind him. Two men ran out the door and the Comedian punched one man's teeth out. He grabbed the other man and shook him as if he were nothing more than a five-pound sack of potatoes.

"Hey," the Comedian said, looking in their direction. "Moloch's club -- pimps and drug-dealers. Looks like everyone's having fun on this side of the street tonight!"

Laurie looked up at the building and just realized that its interior was burning up. There were still people inside, all clambering over each other to get out. Bodies flew out the window while others tumbled out of the door. Laurie had a feeling that the fire hadn't been an accident. Suddenly she didn't feel very well.

The Comedian dropped the man he had been shaking to aim and shoot at someone who had managed to cross the street. He stepped on the one he'd dropped, causing the man to scream.

"Moloch!" shouted the Comedian. He paused to light a cigar, then looked up again. "Come out, Moloch, or your friends are dead!"

"I-Is he hiding somewhere?" asked Laurie. From this angle she could see the man's face and his eyes were staring out at her. The terror in his eyes had twisted them into something so alien she couldn't tell if he was even alive anymore -- or just dead.

"I dunno," said the Comedian, shrugging and laughing. "Probably not."

Laurie felt cold. She looked away when the Comedian shot the man in the back of the head.

"Playing hard to get, huh -- well I can wait," he said. He stepped over a burning body and shot twice more into the distance. There was a scream at the second shot. He smiled, then snarled shortly before he shouted up into the air as if Moloch was hiding there, somehow. "You know Moloch, you're really starting to piss me off here!"

"Do you need assistance?" asked Rorschach, as if he had discovered him pruning hedges in a garden.

"Nah, you kids take care of yourselves," replied the Comedian. "No drinking and driving -- curfew's midnight, you hear? ..._Moloch_!"

Laurie looked at the carnage around them and had to keep from vomiting.

"Uh, Rorschach, I... I think I need to go home," she told him.

Rorschach nodded.

"You all right?" he asked her.

Laurie nodded, but it was more because she was afraid she would lose it if she opened her mouth to say anything else. She waved to Rorschach and left, unable to even look back at the scene that was playing behind her. Glowing light from the rising flames lit up the streets in an eerie light. Laurie kept imagining ghosts in every shadow leaping out at her for failing to save them. But they were bad people -- she wasn't supposed to save bad people, was she? But did even the wicked deserve to die like that?

Laurie rubbed at her eyes. Amidst it all, what bothered her the most was the way Rorschach behaved as if what they saw was perfectly acceptable. Would he condone such violent murder if she had been one of them? Laurie didn't want to think too hard about that. She shook her head as she returned home, mind a blur. She looked up, surprised to find her mother in the kitchen. She had to pause for a moment before she remembered that she was home early.

"Hi Laurie," said Sally, smiling.

"Hi, uh... I didn't expect to see you," Laurie admitted.

"I know honey; you never seem to be home anymore."

Laurie wanted to correct her, point out that it was in fact her mother who was mostly absent. But tonight, she didn't feel like arguing. The image of burning, screaming people had been branded into her mind's eye and ear.

"So, how did the meeting go?" asked Sally. For a moment Laurie had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

"Oh, uh--it went great," said Laurie. Then she realized something. "How did you know about the meeting?"

"Nelly called me to tell me about it," smiled her mother. "He told me it was great, too."

Laurie wondered why her mother had to ask her a question if she already knew the answer.

"Well? What happened?" asked her mother, eyes bright and eager for interaction. "Tell me everything dear. Did you catch any bad guys?"

"No, no... We didn't do anything," Laurie finally managed. "The Comedian--"

Laurie covered her mouth, but it was too late. Her mother's face had already gone dark.

"Oh?" said Sally.

"N-Nothing--look, Mom-- I'm really tired," said Laurie, searching her mother's face for sympathy. But Sally was already reaching for the key to the liquor cabinet.

All Laurie could do was watch helplessly as her mother resumed her new drinking ritual. Suddenly, terribly enough, the idea of being outside with the burning people seemed to be the better option.

-----

To be continued...


	14. Chapter 14

Ch. 14

The coppery acrid stench of burning flesh rose up beyond the flames and cries of the dying. Rorschach noticed that not even the fire department was bothering to arrive, let alone the police. He watched the Comedian as he rolled a dead man over with his boot.

"Aw, hell," said the Comedian, looking up and grinning at Rorschach. "Guess he wasn't here, after all."

Fire was reflecting off of the Comedian's face, throwing his features into jagged shadows. His facial gesture seemed deliberate, that of a desperate man clinging onto the remnants of a sinking boat all the while knowing that it was futile. The boat was going under and he could see it in his eyes that this was all too painfully apparent to him. The Comedian seemed to know where Rorschach's own eyes were, despite the mask, furiously searching them as if for something that would save him. After what seemed like an eternity, the Comedian looked away and began to clean his rifle as if nothing had happened.

"What's up with that Ozymandias kid," muttered the Comedian. He seemed used to talking to himself and for a moment Rorschach wondered if he had forgotten he was there until he looked up and met his eyes again. "Have you seen that guy? Saw him skulkin' around by himself the other day -- lookin' for Moloch too, I guess."

"Idealist," Rorschach told him.

"Yeah... Guess that's what they call idiots nowadays, right?"

Funny. Rorschach would laugh under different circumstances.

"Are you Laurie's father?" asked Rorschach, suddenly. There really was no use beating around the bush, and he needed to know. He might not get another chance alone with the Comedian again.

The Comedian stared at him for a long while with an expression he couldn't read. The fire was flicking in his eyes, making them look like they were full of tears -- but of course, that couldn't be right.

"I guess she told you, huh?" he said.

"No--guessed. Wasn't sure until you just told me yourself."

The Comedian threw back his head and laughed.

"Funny kid. Very good. I like that."

"She doesn't know."

"Yeah," the Comedian nodded. "I suppose that's not surprising. You saw her mother. She threw a fit just because I talked to her."

"Did you rape Silk Spectre?"

"Shit, kid, you the inquisition?" the Comedian suddenly looked wild-eyed. "I tried to, okay? Once. Back when I was young, real young. You think I'm bad now? I was worse back then."

"No offense -- just wanted to know."

"What, if that's how she came to be born?"

Rorschach said nothing, but it had been the reason he had asked. Hollis had only mentioned one attempt in his book, but who knew if there had been a second one? The Comedian nodded as if Rorschach had just said this out loud.

"You need to tell her," said Rorschach.

"And then what?" asked the Comedian, eyes darting. "Should I tell her, 'Hey look, sorry your parents are dicks and can't get past their petty differences to give you a nice life'? 'By the way -- here are some fucking birthday presents to make up for all those years I wasn't there. But that's okay, right? Oh, and I almost raped your mother and I murder people for a living. I'm a real asshole during the week, but on Saturdays and Sundays I'm just a bastard.' "

The Comedian looked agitated. He started to pace, his eyes looking everywhere but not really seeing as he was too busy lost in his own thoughts. Rorschach wondered if these were the things he said to himself every day. The Comedian shook his head and stared directly at Rorschach and for a moment he had something in his eyes that even Rorschach had trouble looking at.

"No, she's better off with her mother and not knowing shit about me," he said, finally.

"I'm going to tell her."

The Comedian laughed, but this time it sounded like he was actually wailing. Of course, he wasn't.

"Yeah, you go do that. Do whatever you want. I don't care."

Oh, but he did. Rorschach knew. He saw that look in his eyes as he turned away from him and waved and began to walk away. That look was easy for him to notice, because where he lived, amongst the poor and downtrodden, that look was hard to find. When you saw it, you knew it right away because it was such a rare sight. It was the look he saw in people when they were about to be murdered or robbed or worse and he showed up to save them. It was hope.

Rorschach nodded to himself and turned away. He had two other locations to investigate, but suddenly he didn't feel much like it. He had no taste for the people who ran or met at these places; the sooner he apprehended them the better, but even he had had too much to look at tonight. Rorschach decided to stick to something simple and leave it up to Nightshade to go with him tomorrow. Things didn't seem right when she wasn't around, anyway.

Rorschach let his legs guide him, but he realized halfway there that he was in fact making his way to one of Moloch's other vice-clubs. Great -- well, as long as the Comedian didn't decide to make multiple rounds that night, at least he was safe in that regard. Rorschach surveyed the building, but it seemed to be closed down. Maybe they had gotten a warning call from someone else that the Comedian was out hunting. Oh, well.

Rorschach made his way to the nearby park -- rapists and the like sometimes frequented simple places like that. He found some hobos sleeping on the benches and a drunk relieving himself against a lamp post. Two lovers intertwined in a passionate kiss. Rorschach averted his eyes and stared straight ahead. Then he turned around and dove into the shadows to look at the lovers more closely.

Yes, he had thought it looked like Nite Owl II, and it _was_. He couldn't believe it. Why would Nite Owl II be seeing a lady friend in a park in full costume? Rorschach realized then that the woman was in costume, too. And he recognized it. Rorschach watched for a few more minutes, hoping they would sneak in some words between the kisses, but that seemed to be all they cared about at the moment. He became sick watching the display and left in disgust. Appalling. Was he planning on marrying that woman?

Rorschach shook his head. Nite Owl II was the last person he would have expected to be enamored with the Twilight Lady. How had he even stumbled across her? He and Ozymandias had been on Moloch's trail. Rorschach paused for a moment as he suddenly heard Nightshade's voice in his head. She had mentioned the vice-clubs and the Twilight Lady in the same sentence. Of course. Why hadn't he thought of that before? It was so simple, and yet...

And yet, Nite Owl II was dating the Twilight Lady. This, Rorschach couldn't wrap his mind around. Was the man insane? What about his job? What about his partner? What about the implications of courting a lady of ill-repute? Rorschach found an alleyway and paced in it. He wished Nightshade was there. Then he looked up, feeling a little crazy but driven by his impulse nonetheless.

He knew where she lived, after all. But did Nightshade know that he knew?

Rorschach made his way to her home, checking to see if the lights were on and they were. He remembered how she had looked before she retired early that evening and he was almost compelled to turn around and head back to where he came from. He stood for a long while outside, looking up at the window which he imagined to be her room, unable to decide. He saw a shadow move downstairs so he walked over to investigate. It was Sally Jupiter on the phone with someone, speaking and gesturing wildly while sipping what looked like brandy. Drunkard on top of a whore. Disgusting.

Rorschach started to climb up the building. He wished he had a grappling hook of sorts in times like these. He was halfway up when he had the sudden frightening idea that maybe Nightshade was in the state of undress. He slid back down and went to the back of the house and climbed in the kitchen window. He could hear Nightshade's mother still talking in the other room. He crept up the back stairs and looked around, not sure which one was _her_ room. He saw light coming through cracks under a doorway in the far end of the hall and saw movement inside. He stalked over and curtly knocked.

Laurie, not Nightshade, answered the door. Damn, he had forgotten about that too. Why had he thought she would be in costume? No he hadn't, actually, he just hadn't cared. He needed to see her -- he had to tell her about what he had found, after all.

"Uh, wow," said Laurie, looking surprised. She laughed. "Rorschach -- I knew it couldn't be my mother. She never knocks."

Rorschach studied her for a moment, unable to speak. She was unmistakably pretty and he found it hard to look away.

"Nightshade," he said, pointedly -- more to himself than anyone else.

"Oh come on," she laughed again. "It's Laurie when I'm out of costume."

Rorschach grunted and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"All right. _Laurie_."

Laurie's face lit up when he said her name. Rorschach wondered why he had ever thought it was a good idea to come here.

"Why don't you come in, Rorschach?"

"Uh--"

"Come in." She had moved away from the door and was now gesturing inside with an inviting smile on her face. The room smelled like her.

Rorschach stepped inside cautiously, imagining that he was sullying the room somehow. Laurie closed the door and stood near him.

"Here, you can sit down, if you want." She was gesturing towards the bed. It wasn't an invitation for anything improper, of course, but he made it a point to look at it, then at her, then to stand there. She shrugged and sat down, herself. "So...what's going on, Rorschach?"

"Needed to tell you," he sighed. "About Twilight Lady. Nite Owl II."

"What, Nite Owl II is really the Twilight Lady?"

Rorschach responded with a startled chuckle. For a moment they were both laughing.

"I'm sorry," said Laurie. "What was it, really?"

"They are romantically involved."

Laurie started to laugh again, but then her eyes widened.

"Wait, are you serious?" she asked him, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Yes -- saw them."

"Wow."

"Yes." He paused. "Connection with her and Moloch, I think."

"Wait... You're not saying Nite Owl II is working for Moloch, are you?"

Rorschach shook his head.

"Not involved with the business, I think...Just the Twilight Lady."

"Wow, I still can't believe--...Wow."

"Are you coming as Nightshade tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I just...look, I'm sorry about tonight. I didn't mean to bail out of you, it's just that -- all those people, and the...the... I couldn't do it."

He nodded as well. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't exactly his thing either, but it seemed to wrong to say that, somehow.

"I guess there's hearing my mom say that the Comedian's a violent man, and then actually seeing it. It takes some getting used to."

"The Comedian is a good man."

Laurie stared at him as if his whole attire had suddenly taken on the patterns on his mask.

"Are you kidding, Rorschach? I can say many things about him, maybe some positive, but 'good' isn't one of them."

"He is good -- he just does bad things."

"Oh Rorschach... How could someone possibly do bad things and be good at the same time?"

"The Comedian is your father."

"Yeah, well..." Laurie trailed off as she realized what he had just told her. She looked at him, lips still parted. "What?"

Rorschach nodded to her. He had said it, she had heard it, and there was no reason to say it again.

"How did you..." Laurie stood up and came to him, hands outstretched as if to grab him. She clenched her fists instead. "How did you find out? How do you know this?"

"Had an idea," he told her. "Then I asked."

"Who? My mother? Who, Rorschach? Please tell me!"

"Comedian."

"And he wasn't... joking?"

Rorschach almost laughed at that.

"No." He told her. He couldn't convey the importance of what he had said with his eyes, but he did what he could with his voice. "No, he wasn't."

"I don't believe..."

There was a creak down the hall, and at the same time Rorschach started to sprint towards the window, Laurie was already springing forward to open the closet door and shove him into it. Rorschach didn't even have time to argue as he heard the bedroom door fling open without even a knock. Laurie was right -- her mother was quite disrespectful.

"Laurie? Are you asleep?"

"With the light on, Mom -- are you kidding?"

"Well, I just wanted to see if you were all right."

"Of course I'm all right. In fact, I was about to go to bed."

"Oh, Laurie... You're angry at me, aren't you?"

"No Mom, it's fine -- I'm going to bed."

Footsteps came inside the room. He heard Laurie sigh. For someone who dealt with this woman her whole life, she was quite bad at making her leave. She was doing the opposite, in fact. Rorschach was agitated. He didn't come here to get stuck in a girl's closet. Stay in there long enough and he was going to come out perfumed and pink.

"Laurie, why don't we do something tomorrow night? Just you and me."

"I can't. I need to go crime fighting."

"It's just one night, dear."

"But it's important. We're trying to find Moloch."

There was a short pause and the temperature in the room suddenly seemed to drop by ten degrees.

"Yes, Moloch," said Sally Jupiter in a voice that made Rorschach's hackles rise. "The _Comedian_ was always obsessed with Moloch."

"And Hollis, too," Laurie pointed out. Rorschach silently applauded her.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure he's having as much fun out there as you are."

"Huh? But--"

"Goodnight, Laurie. You enjoy your time with your _friends_."

Footsteps, the door closing, and more footsteps leading away. Rorschach relaxed a little but didn't attempt to leave until Laurie let him out.

"I'm sorry about that," whispered Laurie as she opened the door. "She's been getting drunk lately, and it makes her so much worse."

Rorschach nodded and looked at her. He wished he could take her hand and lead her away from this place. But that was all he could offer -- there was nowhere he could actually take her to, and he was sorry for that.

"Look, Rorschach," sighed Laurie. "I really appreciate you telling me these things, but...could we talk about them tomorrow? I'm tired, and..."

Rorschach was already halfway out the window. When he turned around she was smiling at him.

"Goodnight, Rorschach," she told him.

"Goodnight, Laurie."

Rorschach climbed out and walked into the night.

-----

To be continued...


	15. Chapter 15

Ch. 15

Laurie woke up that morning and couldn't help but think that the night before had all been just a dream. She got out of bed and went to her closet to search for clothes to wear that day. There was a gap in the clothes hangers. Maybe just enough to fit Rorschach in there? She ran her hand down a jacket that he must have brushed against at one point when he was inside. She smiled.

Half an hour later, Laurie cautiously made her way downstairs. She didn't want to wake up her mother and be forced to have another "conversation" with her again. Nowadays that was all she ever did with her mother -- her mother would walk in on the defensive, ready to fly off the handle no matter what Laurie said to her.

Sighing, Laurie looked around the kitchen, feeling trapped even in the fairly open space. She looked at the clock. Barely eight. Less than ten hours to go before she could go out and fight crime. She wished she could go to Rorschach's house, too -- just to have a place to go to. How had he even found out where she lived? She imagined he had looked her up in the phone book -- well, her mother's name, at least, she knew he knew what it was -- and then...?

Laurie went into the living room and approached the phone. Under the cabinet it was resting on was the phone book. Laurie picked it up, feeling the weight in her hands. She opened the book and it smelled familiar, like the newspapers Laurie liked to read. She ran her fingers over the names, holding her hand up to her face to study the faint smudges of ink on her fingertips. She turned the pages until she found her mother's name. Her address was written clearly next to it. Laurie tried to picture Rorschach, faceless to her under his mask, sitting at a coffee table in an unknown home that was his in her mind. Rorschach picking up a phone book identical to hers and searching through it until he found her address.

The image just didn't seem right. Would it seem more realistic if she really knew who he was under there, the true face he had when he wasn't fighting crime? Who he was underneath the mask? Laurie sighed and wished she could do the same and look up Rorschach -- find out where he lived. Visit him. She really needed a friend right now. It was strange to think that after all this time she didn't even know his name. She couldn't look it up as he had with her. Laurie looked down again. She had turned the pages without thinking, and for a moment she stared at the list of last names that started with the letter B and didn't know why.

Oh, of course. Her father.

Laurie shivered at the words. It was strange to think of having a father -- one that didn't make her angry to think about. The Comedian wasn't a saint, but next to Laurence, anybody was good to her. Good. That was the word that Rorschach used to describe him. Inspired, Laurie continued to scan through the book until she found what she was looking for.

Edward M. Blake. So he was in the phone book, after all. Laurie paused for a moment, looking at the number and address listed. She briefly considered calling him up, even visiting him without warning. But what would she say? _Hi, I heard you were my dad -- want to spend some quality time telling jokes in the docks and burning drug dealers?_

Laurie giggled to herself. Somehow, she thought that even if she did show up and say that, that he wouldn't mind. In fact, he'd think it was hilarious. That was a comforting thought, at least. But no, she wouldn't do that. Her mother would kill her if she knew she had visited the Comedian. Thinking about him made her recall his face and she suddenly felt a stab of pain. How come her mother never told her about this? She knew Laurence wasn't her real father, of course -- he had informed her himself, after all -- but Laurie had always expected her father to be the Hooded Justice. Of course, Hooded Justice being dead was always Laurie's reasoning for having never discussed it with her mother. Laurie assumed that it was a painful memory for her mother and never brought it up. Now that she knew that it wasn't Hooded Justice but someone who was alive, it made her angry.

Laurie left the house, feeling restless. She wished she knew more people. She wandered the streets, looking in windows and even pausing at the dress shop but Walter wasn't there. Laurie found herself outside the Comedian's house. She stood on the sidewalk for a long while then ran away when she saw the curtains move.

Laurie returned home at lunch time and ate alone. She wondered if her mother was even home, or just in her room sleeping off another hangover. She still hadn't heard from her when she left the house that evening. Laurie jogged down the street as Nightshade, her breath blowing out like steam around her in the cold air. Rorschach was waiting for her.

"Hi," said Laurie, smiling. She almost told him that she had looked for him in the phone book but that sounded creepy, regardless of whether or not he had done it himself with her. "I guess we're investigating the Twilight Lady tonight, huh?"

Rorschach nodded and gestured for them to go. They walked in silence, gathering information from as many sources as they could find. It seemed people were more willing to talk about the Twilight Lady than of Moloch, but as for their connection, nobody seemed to have any idea. It didn't seem they were getting any leads tonight. On nights like this they usually gave up and turned to more petty crime to deal with. That seemed scarce tonight, as well.

"You know," said Laurie, after they had gone on a long stretch without finding any criminals, "I wanted to look for you in the phone book today. Of course, I didn't know your name so I couldn't find you."

"Why would you do that?"

Laurie shrugged.

"I wanted to visit you, I suppose."

"I'm afraid I have nothing to offer in terms of hospitality."

"Yeah, but that's not what matters, is it?"

Rorschach didn't respond.

Laurie looked away. She decided to tell him.

"You're all I have, you know that?" she said, laughing in embarrassment. "I mean, besides my mother. It's just you, and I don't even know your name."

"You have a father now."

"Yes, but..."

"You can get to know him."

"Well..."

"Build a relationship with him."

_Why don't _you_ go do that yourself if you're so inclined_, Laurie almost blurted out. She bit her lip and felt guilty for thinking it. Rorschach seemed to have respect for the Comedian; genuinely seemed to regard him as a great figure. Laurie wished the feeling came so naturally to her. She didn't think the Comedian was as bad as her mother said but she didn't feel like wholly agreeing with Rorschach's opinion of him either. She just felt... scared. How was she supposed to have a relationship with a man who had been out of her life for almost seventeen years? Looking at the dark, empty streets, Laurie felt depressed. She wished there was something the two of them could do that wasn't just this damn crime fighting. Couldn't they go out somewhere to eat, even? Just sit down and relax and talk, and not have to worry about some stranger getting mugged, for once?

"I don't know what I would say to a man like that," Laurie finally said.

Rorschach shrugged. He seemed to have become contemplative again. Laurie didn't mind. It just gave her time to think too. If only her thoughts weren't so grim tonight. She looked at the time and winced.

"I guess we only have a couple of hours before we're done for the night," she said sadly. Rorschach looked at her but didn't pry. Suddenly she wanted to tell him about how her mother had been acting, but she didn't want to burden him. She was sure he had heard enough last night when he had been hiding in her closet. Besides, she was already feeling stupid about what she had said to him earlier.

But it was true what she had said -- he _was_ all she had. And he was a good friend. Being her only friend had nothing to do with that.

"My mother's been... difficult, lately," she managed to tell him. "It's been hard, staying at home."

"Let's see if we can find something to keep us out longer," he suggested. For an instant, Laurie assumed he was changing the subject, but she realized after thinking about it that he was in fact trying to find a solution for her problem.

Laurie nodded, feeling relieved. She couldn't run away from her mother forever, but anything that would delay an inevitable confrontation with her was good enough for Laurie.

They tailed a man for a while. The man wasn't doing anything, really -- Rorschach had just joked that he looked like he had something to hide. Instead of giving up to look for something better like they usually might, they followed him back to his house and snooped around. They were surprised to find he was actually a pervert who took candid photos of ladies in various stages of undress. That man was going to have nightmares about Rorschach for a while.

By the time they had taken care of the pervert, it was past the hour they usually split ways. This time they crept around, looking for more trouble. At this time of night, it seemed even the criminals gave up and went to bed. They ended up sitting on a rooftop looking down a normally busy street that was now empty.

"I better head back," Laurie said, finally, after struggling to keep from nodding off. "Thanks for staying up with me, Rorschach. I'll see you tomorrow."

Laurie walked home as the sun rose behind her. She was tired, but she was in a better mood. She was also surprised to find her mother sitting at the kitchen table. She had a bottle next to her, nearly empty. Laurie winced.

"Hi, Mom," said Laurie. "Were you waiting up? I'm sorry if--"

"No need for your excuses," said Sally, slurring her words. Her head was rolling as if she was on a tossing ship at sea.

"What?" Laurie stared at her, not comprehending what she meant.

"I know what you're doing, going out at all hours of the night," she said. Her voice wavered even as she raised it.

"But I--"

"You don't think I know how it is? Oh, I know how it is, all right." her mother laughed darkly. "But when you end up pregnant, don't you think I'm going to let you walk right in when he leaves you."

Laurie couldn't believe the words she was hearing.

"Mom, I'm not--"

"No, Laurie, that's enough. Enough of your lies." Sally was trying to look at her -- her eyes were bloodshot -- but she couldn't seem to be able to focus. "You think you're better than me, Laurie? You think you're making better choices? I'm tired of living in fear of your judgment. Well, _you_ aren't in any position to look at me the way you do!"

"Mom--"

"You think you're having fun out there -- don't even think what kind of person _he_ is. I told him to stay away from you but I'm sure you're great friends now. I'm sure _he_ doesn't tell you to be careful, to watch who you're with. Does he let you stay at his house? You and your boyfriend, and him, the three of you?"

"I really don't know what you mean, mom." Laurie was choking back tears now.

"That's because you won't _listen_," yelled Sally. She got up and pointed a trembling finger at her daughter. "Nobody listens. You know what? He can have you -- you never loved me anyway."

"Of course I love--"

"Get out, Laurie."

"What?"

"_Get out_!"

Laurie turned and ran, too shocked to even cry. Behind her she heard her mother screaming.

-----

To be continued...


	16. Chapter 16

Ch. 16

Rorschach was surprised to find Nightshade waiting for him. He was early enough as it was, and it wasn't often when she arrived at their meeting place before him. She was standing with her back against a wall, her head hanging slightly. This image of her concerned him.

"Hi," said Nightshade, as he approached her. She looked tired. "I didn't sleep at all last night."

Rorschach hadn't either. In the morning, Walter had to go to work. He worked long hours that day. Sometimes, given his two lives he didn't get much sleep in between.

"Your mother?" he asked her.

"Yes. Yes, my mother," said Laurie, shaking her head. "She was going off this morning as if she was crazy, Rorschach. She told me to get out so I did."

Rorschach paused.

"Just for today?"

"I... I don't know. She was drunk. I'm sure she didn't...didn't mean the things she said. I still don't know what happened back there."

Rorschach nodded -- Sally was many things, but she wasn't the type of mother to abandon her child. He was more than certain that she had not meant to play at kicking her own daughter out.

"Everyone thought I was visiting them," laughed Nightshade, who seemed to be a little delirious from lack of sleep. "Well, just two, actually. I went to Nelly's house this morning. He thought I had just gotten up early to visit him. I was hoping I could get some sleep at his place but he likes to talk your ear off, and I couldn't really tell him... I had to leave after lunch so he wouldn't stop and wonder why I was so keen on spending time with him all of a sudden. I ended up going to Hollis' house. He actually noticed that I was in costume. I just told him I had wanted to show him -- we talked about the old days; well he did. And Nite Owl II. Then I left and came here."

Nightshade wiped at her eyes. She wasn't looking at him. Rorschach said nothing for a long while -- he really didn't know what to say.

"I'm sure things will be fine," he said.

"But what if they aren't?" she said. "She said awful things, about you and me, a-about the...my...my dad, I think... I don't know. I really... I just didn't understand it. She was so angry."

Rorschach nodded, wishing he was a better conversationalist than this. He really didn't know how to comfort women.

"I'm sorry," Laurie said, finally. "Why don't we just do our thing? I think I need to take my mind off of...of everything. I'm sure things will look better after tonight."

Rorschach nodded again, relieved. This, he knew how to do.

"Need to investigate Moloch's remaining two lairs," he told her. "Find the connection with Twilight Lady."

Nightshade smiled at him. They began to walk through the streets, and he heard her sigh with exhaustion. He nervously wondered if she needed a place to stay. No, she could go to Captain Metropolis' house, worse came to worse. He felt guilty, as if he was dumping her onto the man, but Captain Metropolis was safe, and she had known him since childhood, hadn't she? She called him Uncle Nelly, after all. No, she would be fine.

As they approached the building that had been closed during the night of the Comedian's attack, Rorschach saw something on the roof and stopped Nightshade. He saw a figure leap down from up above and emerge from the shadows below. Rorschach groaned inwardly. It was Ozymandias. No sign of Nite Owl II, however.

"Hello friends," said Ozymandias, smiling, though he seemed a little uncertain.

"Ozzy?" asked Nightshade. She sounded like she was half-asleep. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Ozymandias looked shocked, a bit too shocked.

"If you mean Nite Owl II..."

"I'm sorry," Nightshade laughed. "I was joking... lack of sleep, I don't think I know what I'm saying, really."

"Oh." He looked a little relieved, but not quite. "That's all right."

Damn. Rorschach was hoping to watch him squirm as he tried to come up with an explanation.

"I suppose it would be redundant to tell you that I am on the lookout for Moloch," said Ozymandias. Had he been crying? No, it was just the way the light from the lamp post was reflecting against his eyes.

"I suppose," said Nightshade.

"I uh... actually found a link between him and the Twilight Lady."

"We have too."

Ozymandias nodded. He seemed very uncomfortable, and he kept glancing over at Rorschach.

"I was thinking that perhaps -- if it isn't any trouble of course -- we could join forces for tonight." His eyes went steely for a second and Rorschach felt goosebumps on his forearms at the canned way Ozymandias spoke. "We should be able to capture the Twilight Lady once and for all, I think, if we band together. Just tonight."

Ozymandias was not approaching them because of his sense of camaraderie, Rorschach realized. He had a personal vendetta against the bondage queen. He knew it wasn't because of the way she dressed, either. Confused, Rorschach wondered if Ozymandias and Nite Owl II had been in some sort of homosexual relationship. But how was this possible if the Nite Owl II preferred women? In Rorschach's opinion, either you were one or the other. It wasn't possible to like both sexes in that regard. Was it?

Rorschach looked up and noticed Nightshade was looking at him. He glanced up at Ozymandias and realized that all three of them had gone silent since Ozymandias' proposal.

"Fine." Rorschach shrugged. Ozymandias was only going to be around for one day. Rorschach was more curious about two things, however: how the man fought, and the confusing dynamics between him and Nite Owl II.

"It's settled then," said Ozymandias, looking relieved. "I am so eager to detain her myself; I'm glad I didn't have to dispose of you two after all, for getting in my way."

Ozymandias laughed. Nightshade joined in, but she looked at Rorschach with wide eyes afterwards. For some reason, he only had seemed to be half joking. Ozymandias led them away from the building and a few blocks down, to a gaudy looking nightclub.

"Are we going inside?" asked Nightshade, apprehensively.

"Just the back," Ozymandias told her. "The club is just a front."

"Not to mention a cover," said Rorschach.

"Uh... yes," said Ozymandias, looking at him and not getting his point. He seemed nervous again. "Shall we go?"

Ozymandias shot up into the air with the aid of a grappling gun. Rorschach watched him. He really wanted one, too. He shrugged and started to climb the old-fashioned way with Nightshade. When they reached the top, Ozymandias had already pried the metal doors open. It looked like they had been chained together previously.

"Here, put these in your ears," Ozymandias told them. He was holding what looked like improved ear plugs. Nightshade obeyed. So did Rorschach, but he had to turn away from them to do it.

"What are these for?" whispered Nightshade, but Ozymandias just gave her a brilliant smile.

"No worry," he told her. He pulled out a foreign device as he began to lead the way down the stairs. The hall was dark, but Rorschach could see him pressing a button. Nothing happened. However, when they reached the bottom of the steps, they saw people writhing on the floor in the grips of what seemed like seizures. Blood trickled down from their ear lobes.

"They're not dying," Ozymandias told them, in a flat tone.

Nightshade turned and gave Rorschach a look that mirrored how he felt inside. If Ozymandias could do all this, why did he bother bringing them along?

"I think this room is soundproof," Ozymandias told them. He attached a small disc to the doors, then waved them over to stand behind the staircase. The doors caved in with a small bang that rang out as if someone had merely struck at the doors with their fists.

Ozymandias took the lead and the two of them followed. A woman screamed, but Ozymandias moved like lightning and swiftly silenced her with a blow to the head. It looked like there were only five men inside. Armed, but it didn't matter. They were taken care of in short time. They searched the rooms -- they were full of clients in various stages of drug and prostitution use. It was difficult to find the Twilight Lady in the room's haze, but Ozymandias seemed to know where she was. He moved as if with a purpose, and when he found her there was a brief scuffle as she tried to defend herself. She was soon on the floor unconscious, however. Ozymandias picked up her limp form, and Rorschach wondered if the man had just invited them along to perform a show for them. Rorschach felt like he had scarcely done anything.

"Thank you for the assistance," said Ozymandias, with that smile again. If it were anybody else, Rorschach might have suspected sarcastic intent, but he seemed to be showing genuine gratitude towards them.

"Uh yes, you're welcome," said Nightshade. She appeared to be practically sleeping while standing up. Rorschach shook his head. She really was in no form to fight tonight; he was actually a little glad that Ozymandias had showed up and taken over things. On any other day, however, this would have been aggravating. With a small sigh, Rorschach realized he was a little tired as well.

They exited the building and Ozymandias turned and waved at them. He said something about parting being sweet sorrow and other literary quotes Rorschach wasn't going to pay attention to. Rorschach watched Ozymandias leave and suddenly had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. About what, he had no inkling as of yet. But no, he couldn't worry about that right now. He glanced at Nightshade, who was swaying a little.

"Call it a night, I suppose," he told her. "You are in no shape to do anything else."

Nightshade nodded.

"Yes, I'm... I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

_You were -- you were thinking about avoidance, that's all_, he thought.

"I don't know what to do, Rorschach," she said. She shook her head. "Do I just go home? What if she's drunk again? I don't think... don't think I can handle it tonight. I'm just so tired. I can't deal with it."

Rorschach watched her as she rubbed her eyes and he couldn't tell if it was because she was wiping away tears or sleep. Of course, he could take her in, let her stay at his apartment. Shabby as it was, at least it would be shelter from the elements and any vagrants or those of ill-will that might bother her out here in the street. However, on second thought, an unrelated and unmarried man and woman living in the same home? That just didn't seem right. Naturally, he wouldn't do anything that would risk soiling her virtuous image, but it seemed like a bad idea.

"Go home, Nightshade," he told her.

Nightshade nodded, but she wasn't looking at him. Rorschach worried for her, but she seemed to be walking in the direction of her home. Finally, he couldn't stand just watching and doing nothing so he ran to catch up to her.

"Let me walk you home," he told her.

"Thanks."

Rorschach saw her off safely, but the uneasiness remained. He didn't sleep well that night.

-----

To be continued...


	17. Chapter 17

Ch. 17

Laurie had started to go into her home like she said she would; through the back, she had told Rorschach. After he left, however, she stood looking up at the house that she had lived in for the past decade. This usually inviting place seemed dark and menacing to her, despite the lighted windows. She supposed it was the lights that were the most repelling aspect of the what she was seeing, strangely enough. Lights meant that someone was awake -- her mother was awake. It could also mean she had fallen asleep with the lights on again, but Laurie didn't feel like taking that chance tonight.

Laurie turned and looked behind and around her, at the other houses on her street. Tears had welled up in her eyes and for a moment she couldn't see through the blur. She blinked, and all was clear again. She couldn't go inside. She knew that much. In this instant her own neighborhood looked alien to her. Rows and rows of houses she recognized just the other day now meant nothing, just foreign oddities that gave her none of the emotions that came with familiarity. Laurie slipped out the fence that joined her backyard to the neighbor's and cut through the bushes -- just in case Rorschach was watching to make sure she had made it home safely.

She couldn't stay awake any longer, however, and it didn't seem right to go to Hollis' house again. She thought about Nelson for a moment -- he would be the most understanding of all her mother's friends. But he would also do the right thing and call her mother. Then he would know what a drunk she had become. Laurie was embarrassed by the idea, embarrassed for her mother, and for Nelson who would have to intervene. She didn't want him to. Was that so bad?

Laurie hung her head and walked down the empty streets. She would occasionally run across someone walking alone and they would look at her with frightened eyes. This reaction confused her until she realized she was still in her costume. Damn costume -- it really wasn't something that was enjoyable to spend all day in. She could at least thank her luck that her mother had never convinced her to continue on in that awful Silk Spectre getup.

A dog whimpered in the distance -- maybe someone had kicked it. A passing car, and three drunks singing a block down south. Laurie went the long way to avoid them. She could take them on if they gave her trouble, of course, but she wasn't up to it. Not right now. Shops gave way to a residential area, and Laurie wondered where she had seen this neighborhood before. It wasn't until she felt herself stop and look up that she realized what she had been doing. Laurie laughed for a moment; she wasn't planning it like this at all, but her subconscious seemed to have a mind of its own. Unlike her own house, this one looked warm and inviting. It was all for the same reasons, though. The lights were on, and that was somehow a comforting thought in this situation.

She was standing outside Edward Blake's house.

Laurie began to pace back and forth, biting her lip and suddenly feeling very nervous. She mustered up all the courage she could find and walked up the driveway. She jumped when a neighbor's dog started to bark as she walked by the gate. Her heart was starting to pound wildly as she made her way up the steps and to the door. Still not too late to just turn and leave.

But she had no place to go. Damn Rorschach couldn't trust her to tell her where he lived.

Laurie reached up to ring the doorbell and realized her hand was shaking. The dog was barking so much, she couldn't even think clearly. She thought she was going to faint when the door opened before she could complete her task.

"Hey, why don't you shut the f--"

The Comedian -- well, Edward Blake, he was out of costume -- stared down at her with his mouth hanging open. Laurie stared back for only a few seconds before she pushed past him and went into the house. It was either that or run in the opposite direction.

"Well, why don't you come in," said Blake, in disbelief, after he had a moment to compose himself. "No need to stand in the doorway before I invite you inside, or anything."

Laurie found the couch in the living room and sat down on it. Blake was still within view, and he stood in the doorway watching her as if he had forgotten where he was.

"Are you really my dad?" asked Laurie.

Blake looked out the open door, then at her again. Then he closed the door and stepped closer to her.

"Well, yeah," he said, scratching his head.

"Good -- I was worried for a moment that Rorschach was pulling my leg or something."

"Yeah--...Yeah, he said he'd tell you."

"Oh."

They looked away at the same time, and Laurie was certain he felt as awkward as she did.

"Uh, so... I wasn't expecting a visit," he said.

"I ran away."

"What the hell?"

"Well, actually, I guess I kind of got kicked out, too."

"Why, get pregnant?" He laughed.

"No!" Shouted Laurie. Blake raised an eyebrow at her. She looked down. "I'm sorry, but no, I'm not. My mother just... well, she's been getting drunk. She's not herself lately."

"Ah, well, uh..." Blake looked around. "Do you want me to call her or what?"

"No," said Laurie, lowering her voice to an almost whisper. "I was hoping you could let me stay here."

"Uh--...uh sure," he said, hugging himself for one instant as if she scared him, somehow.

"Thank you," said Laurie, lying down right where she had been sitting. She was unbelievably tired.

"I mean, there's not much room here, but if you..."

She must have fallen asleep right then, because she never heard the end of his sentence. The next thing she remembered was waking up with the sun shining in her eye and facing a view of an unfamiliar place. Laurie sat up, looking around her. She saw a television, a bookshelf, a grandfather clock. Had she fallen asleep in the living room, somehow? She must have. She didn't want to wake up her mother by sneaking upstairs, and... no, that wasn't right either. No, she was in Edward Blake's house. Because he was her father. That wasn't a dream, either. She had fallen asleep on his couch, yes, now she remembered. What she didn't remember was there being this blanket on her the night before. She pulled it around her shoulders -- it smelled faintly of cedar.

Laurie heard a cough and looked up. Edward Blake was standing near the front door in a robe, reading a newspaper. She watched him for a moment before he looked up. He seemed startled to see her.

"Oh, hey, uh..." he looked away then at her again. Then he scratched his head. He looked at the paper. Then at her.

"What is it?" she asked.

He shrugged, then walked over to her. He handed the paper to her, folded to highlight a particular article. It was regarding Moloch's capture. Dr. Manhattan -- he had found him, somehow, and now Moloch was in a holding cell. Laurie sighed.

"I don't believe it," she said. She looked up as Blake moved into another room, out of sight. She felt a tug at her hair when she turned her head and realized that her mask was caught in it. Darn -- she had fallen asleep in her mask. She pulled it off and rearranged her hair before looking for her father.

Blake was in the kitchen, busying himself with preparing what looked like coffee. He didn't look up as she came in and sat down at the table to study him.

"Do you feed yourself, or do I have to?" he asked, almost to himself.

Laurie giggled.

"Um, you make me sound like an animal at the pet store."

"Yeah, I dunno," said Blake, shaking his head. He started to fry something up. He still wasn't looking at her.

Laurie took the time to look around the house. It was actually quite bright and tidy for a house that belonged to a man that lived alone. Especially for a man who was the Comedian at night.

"Used to belong to my parents," said Blake, gesturing around. He must have been watching her when she wasn't paying attention to him. "Uh, your grandparents, I guess. Left it to me when they died. I kept it as it was."

"Oh." Laurie smiled a little. "It's a very nice house."

"Thanks. Here."

He practically threw down a plate in front of her. Laurie realized they were eggs. Piles of eggs.

"Eggs?" laughed Laurie.

"Yeah. Don't you like them?"

"No, it's...they're fine."

Laurie started to eat, and realized just how starving she was. She heard a snort and looked up to find Blake looking directly at her this time, but he was laughing.

"What?" she asked him.

"Oh, just..." he was gesturing around his eyes as if to tell her, then shook his head. He left the room and came back with a mirror and gave it to her instead.

Laurie looked in the mirror and burst out laughing. The mask must have been tighter than she thought, or maybe it was because she had it on too long. There was an indentation around her eyes in the shape of her mask. Now she looked like a raccoon. She looked up to find Blake studying her closely. There was still a smile on his face, and without his own mask, his eyes looked warm. Or maybe it was just in the way he was looking at her. It was an almost dreamy look, and it was strange to see it on his face in particular. He shook himself out of his reverie after a moment and wiped his hands on his thighs.

"Well, I, uh..." he said. He started to mutter something to himself as he left the room. Laurie finished the eggs and went to the sink to wash her plate. Then she found a glass and drank water from it. She wasn't keen on having just water, but she didn't want to start taking things from someone else too much without asking -- even if that someone was her father. She washed the glass too and when she turned, Edward Blake was dressed for the day. Not as the Comedian, just dressed in normal attire.

"Gotta take care of some business," he told her. He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder at the same time.

Laurie wondered what sort of work he was going to be doing that day. What was it like in the life of the Comedian out of disguise? She imagined it was full of danger and intrigue nonetheless, with flying bullets and pounding adrenaline as he saved people from burning buildings (ones that he lit on fire himself) before jumping out to protect the mayor by punching him. No, not the mayor -- the president. After running over terrorists with a hijacked schoolbus (still with children inside, all frightened to death), he would stop at a deli for lunch, all the while scoping the place for bad guys. Then he would end the day by foiling a bank robbery in his plain clothes before returning in the evening to become the Comedian and then, _really_ kick it up a notch.

"Where are you going?" asked Laurie eagerly. She had worked herself up into an excitement thinking about the endless possibilities.

"The post office," he told her. She must have had a funny expression on her face, because he burst out laughing. "What's the matter, kid? You look so disappointed."

"I don't know," laughed Laurie, embarrassed. "I guess I thought you were off to do something more thrilling."

"You kidding me? I'm fucking boring," he said. He looked surprised. "Aw damn, sorry about the language. Shit, I mean... Uh, are you going to stay here long?"

Laurie frowned.

"Well, if you don't want me here, I can le--"

He held up his hand.

"I just meant, did you bring anything?" he pointed at her. "Or are you just planning on living in that thing?"

Laurie looked down at her Nightshade uniform. She really didn't have anything, and now she was even more embarrassed. She put her hands to her mouth and shook her head at him. She felt like crying.

"Well come on then," he told her. It took Laurie a moment before she realized he was inviting her to go with him.

"You mean come with you?"

"No, we're going separate ways and meeting up at the same place after travelling different routes to get there -- yes, come with me." He looked annoyed. But then he winked at her at the last moment.

Laurie couldn't help but smile at that. Feeling undeniably happy, she raced forward and took his hand freely. He seemed startled, but he didn't let go. He actually held fast.

-----

To be continued...


	18. Chapter 18

Ch. 18

Walter had a terrible night. He had a hard time falling asleep at first, and when he finally did, he had a dream that Ozymandias was using the device that made people's ears bleed. But instead of targeting bad people, he targeted everyone. In his dream, Walter walked down the streets of the city and there were masses of bodies writhing around him, all screaming. After a while he realized they weren't just writhing in agony; they were writhing in pleasure, like fornicating sinners. He saw the Twilight Lady up ahead, but no, it was his mother. He ran. He saw Laurie -- no, Nightshade -- she told him that she had to be Silk Spectre now. She began to undress and he looked away, away from the image and the transgressions around him. Then Ozymandias was there again. The flesh on his face began to melt away, giving view to the muscles beneath as the blood poured from his eyes and pooled at his feet. The blood was everywhere now, covering the thousands of moving bodies until they were drowned, all of them. Their movement did not cease, however, and soon the blood was a sea and their actions the waves and still he stood there as if floating, Ozymandias too.

"It's all so clear now," Ozymandias told him, as he reached out for Walter. His hands were aged and gnarled, like talons and they grasped at him with intent to kill.

Dogs barked around him -- they were a part of the waves in this wretched mock-ocean -- they began to dive under the water, no, the blood, tearing apart at the flesh piled high underneath the roiling surface. Walter then realized he hadn't been floating at all, but standing atop the bodies and there were more than he could have ever imagined. And they weren't really dead, they were grasping at his ankles and feet and trying to drag him down. In the horizon, almost too far to see, was what looked like a dark ship with torn sails and a twisted, broken mast. And those hands were dragging him down and in every direction. Towards the ship, towards Ozymandias, towards death.

Walter struggled as hard as he could. When he woke up, he was tangled in the sheets. He didn't remember the dream. All he had was a voice in his head. _It's all so clear now_, it said. It kept repeating over and over, until Walter couldn't stand it anymore. He got up and paced for a long while before returning to bed. He looked out the window to realize the sun was rising just as slumber finally overtook him.

Thankfully, it had been a Sunday -- Walter didn't like missing work, no matter how much he hated it -- but today, he had the day off. On Sundays, Walter usually looked for extra shifts to work through, but sometimes he would go into the city without his costume to protect him and watch people. Not even watch for crime, but just to study humanity. He liked to add each piece to his puzzle that was the human psyche. Walter wanted to know what motivated people, how they worked and moved and lived. Walter went to a cafe for lunch and sat at the window and stared out into the world. Nobody paid him hardly any mind when they could see him, but now behind a glass they really didn't notice him at all. How could they, if they didn't even register the others around them in the streets?

Walter saw an old woman walk by with her arm around a younger man's, probably her son. He saw a business man walking briskly to the curb to flag a taxi. He had a suitcase, probably going to the airport. A wedding band flashed gold on his left hand and Walter studied the way it glimmered in the light, fascinated. A little boy ran up to the window and looked directly up at him. Walter looked back. The child made a face at him, then was ushered away by his mother who hardly gave him a second glance. A homeless man shuffled by and briefly stuck out his cup at the mother and son as they walked past. The son was tugging at his mother's arm and she looked down at him, exasperated, before she reached in her purse and dropped a coin into the cup. She did this gingerly, as if somehow getting close to the man, even though they were far from touching, was offensive. Two men collided with one other, faces twisted in both surprise and anger as they exchanged harsh words. A young woman walked by, long hair flowing behind her. She didn't look like Laurie, but she reminded him of her, somehow.

Thinking about Laurie, Walter suddenly felt sick. He wondered if she had made it. Of course, after walking her home and going back to his own, he realized too late that there was the chance her mother might try to kick her out again. Now in the daylight after much thinking, Walter became aware of the fact that it had been incredibly uncharitable of him to not offer his friend a place to stay. The guilt was sitting on the pit of his stomach like a stone he had swallowed in the night. Suddenly Walter saw an image of tossing seas and felt very ill. For a moment he thought he _was_ going to be sick in his lap, but nothing happened.

God, he should have let her stay with him. Or at least just tell her where he lived in case she needed his help. He remembered what she had said about not having anyone else besides him and her mother. Her mother had tossed her out into the street and he had forsaken her by being so selfish he couldn't see past his own petty ideals. Sitting there in the bright cafe by the window looking out into the busy street, he hated himself. He raked his hands through his hair, wishing he could call her somehow and check up on her. He didn't want to go to her home in broad daylight if her mother was being as bad as she said she had been -- he believed her of course; if he hadn't, he would have gone to her house that instant.

Walter looked up, eyes widening with realization. Laurie was all _he_ had. He had never thought of it that way before. She at least had her mother. And of course, she now knew of her father. And she had him. But she was all he had.

And he couldn't even help her when she needed it.

Walter brought his fists down on the table, startling the customers nearby. He didn't even see them. He was utterly tormented. He didn't want to sit here anymore, so he left. He went home and changed into his costume. Yes, it was early afternoon, but he just couldn't handle being home alone with his thoughts. He climbed onto the roof of his apartment and looked out as far as he could see. He felt safe under his mask, and for a long while withdrew into himself. It was barely late afternoon when he saw an airship fly overhead, bearing a banner. For a moment, he couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the message:

"CRIMEBUSTERS PLS MEET AT AREA"

Rorschach shook his head and made his way out into the street, chuckling despite of himself. Was this some sort of joke? Half an hour later, he was at Nelson Gardner's home. They had previously agreed to start meeting there for subsequent Crimebuster meetings, though Rorschach had not been to the place previous to the moment. The door was open, so Rorschach walked right in. Captain Metropolis was there, as well as Ozymandias and Nite Owl II.

"Ah, glad you could make it," said Captain Metropolis. "I was just explaining to them that this isn't a joke or a drill, but a real emergency Crimebusters meeting."

"And I was saying, that his message-bearing plane was quite a loud way to announce a meeting," said Ozymandias, smiling.

"Well, if I had phone numbers..." muttered Nelly. Ozymandias immediately walked over and wrote down something for him. Nelson smiled at him.

"Hey, where's your partner?" asked Nite Owl II.

Rorschach should have just brushed it off as a perfectly normal question, but for some reason it made him unbelievably angry. Maybe it was the fact that Ozymandias and Nite Owl II were there together, while he had lost track of his own...

Nightshade walked in the door just then, and Rorschach felt immensely relieved. He wanted to approach her and hold her closely to him to convey to her how sorry he was; something he didn't think he could do with words.

"Hi," said Nightshade, to Nelly. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No," sighed Nelly. "And I would have been able to contact you the proper way, Laurie, if you had actually been home for me to call."

Nightshade pursed her lips and walked further into the room to join Rorschach at his side.

"Gee, thanks for using my name," said Nightshade, who didn't seem all that bothered. She seemed to be quite radiant, actually. But maybe it was because Rorschach was so glad to see her alive and well.

"Oh God," said Nelly. "I'm sorry... I just..."

"Forget it," Laurie laughed, then her smile quickly vanished. "Did my mother tell you where I was?"

"No. I mean, no, nobody answered."

"All right..."

Laurie frowned. She then turned to Rorschach as if to speak to him, but Captain Metropolis clapped his hands together.

"You may or may not have heard of this already, but Moloch has escaped," he said, gravely.

"I thought Dr. Manhattan had him thrown him jail?" asked Laurie.

"Well, he was in jail awaiting trial, actually," said Metropolis. "But early this morning, someone blew up the walls of the building where he was being held. There were only eight criminals detained inside; five escaped. One of them was Moloch."

"Does this necessarily warrant an emergency meeting?" asked Nite Owl II. "Moloch was a hassle, but he never was such a threat before."

"There have been reports of a strange transmission coming from this area," said Captain Metropolis, directing them to an area on the map. Then he moved his pointer to another location. "And this is where they discovered most of Moloch's resources was coming from."

"Hey," said Nite Owl II, lighting up. "I live in that neighborhood."

"And the two of us patrol most of the other neighborhood, actually," said Ozymandias.

"Great, you guys can handle both problems," said Nightshade.

"Ha ha ha," said Captain Metropolis. "I was thinking that maybe you could split and mix up the pairs -- perhaps Nite Owl II with Nightshade and Ozymandias with Rorschach? It makes more sense to make teams where at least one person knows the area well."

"Now wait a minute," said Nite Owl II.

"I'm afraid we don't have much time to discuss this. We don't know if these separate incidents are related, and we need as much information as possible," said Nelly, holding up his hands in a pleading gesture.

"If time is of the essence then perhaps it would be for the best," said Ozymandias. Then he looked at Nite Owl II. "It's only temporary."

"It's settled, then," said Captain Metropolis.

"I'll go with Rorschach to find the source of the transmission while Nite Owl II and Nightshade investigate Moloch's whereabouts," said Ozymandias.

Rorschach, shocked, just stood there while Nightshade looked over her shoulder at him as she left with Nite Owl II. Ozymandias approached him as if he was a broken bear trap set to snap at any moment.

"Shall we go then?" asked Ozymandias.

Rorschach had to keep from attacking him.

-----

To be continued...


	19. Chapter 19

Ch. 19

"So, I guess since we're working together, I might as well tell you my name," said Nite Owl II.

"You don't really have to," Laurie protested.

"No, I think it's only fair since Nelson gave your name out to everyone," insisted Nite Owl II. "I'm Dan."

"Nice to meet you."

"I've been wondering what it's like to work with you."

"Why?" Laurie was suspicious. She was also upset that all this had happened and she had been so stunned she hadn't been able to put her opinion on the table.

Her opinion was, that this was an obnoxious setup, and she would much rather be paired up with Ozymandias than with Nite Owl II -- Dan. Now she was stuck with him in his bizarre owl ship, feeling uncomfortable. She sat in the chair that she assumed must be where Ozymandias was usually seated and felt a little sad for the man. Ozymandias, that is. Not Dan.

"I don't know," shrugged Dan. "I've always wanted the four of us to be a team. You and yours and me and mine."

Laurie and Dan stared at each other. Laurie thought that was a very strange way to describe their relationships to their respective partners. No, that sounded odd, too. The way he said it and the way she had thought it, made it sound like they were all married to each other.

"Uh, so," said Dan. He must have realized the same thing. He seemed embarrassed. "What's going to keep Moloch from escaping if we find him again?"

"What makes you think we're going to find him?"

"I-I don't know, being optimistic, I suppose," Dan stuttered and suddenly seemed quite unsure of himself. Laurie decided to take advantage of this.

"So, what's going on with you and Ozymandias?" she asked him.

"What?" asked Dan, looking at her with his mouth open. "What do you mean?"

"Are you two going out?"

"No," Dan looked back out to where they were headed again. "What makes you think that?"

"I don't know, it just seemed like it, that's all. So you're not in a relationship with each other?"

"No."

Laurie studied Dan carefully, and he just seemed to be irritated by the question, not nervous or anything. However, she realized he hadn't even denied her implications of his sexual preferences. Then again, if he had gone out with the Twilight Lady, what did Ozymandias matter? Dan could just be a mild mannered individual and his lack of denial was just in his confidence that his negative affirmation to her question would be sufficient of a response. Or, he and Ozymandias had a lover's quarrel over Dan's indiscretions with the Twilight Lady. Laurie giggled at the idea.

Dan glanced over at her, but didn't pry. Laurie wondered if Dan ever thought the same thing about her and Rorschach and realized that it was too outlandish of an idea. Rorschach was far too formal, especially when in the vicinity of the others, and she simply mirrored his treatment of her. Why was she thinking about this, anyway? She and Rorschach as a couple was a ridiculous thought to begin with -- it would never happen. He was all business, and business partners didn't get together like that.

That idea made her very depressed, and she couldn't fathom why.

Much to Laurie's chagrin, Moloch's former hideout had been cleared before their arrival, probably hours before. By the time she and Dan made it there, there was only dust and a few unimportant papers blowing around through the wind from the open doors and windows.

"Wow, what a fruitless search," sighed Dan, after they had investigated the best they could with what resources they had on hand.

Laurie blamed Dan for their lack of findings. It seemed like he gave up far too easily -- Rorschach would have asked question after question until he got to the bottom of it. Sometimes, Rorschach's ever curious nature drove her up the wall, especially when they were looking for something that wasn't immediately apparent and she was stuck running in seemingly endless circles with him. At the same time, the very quirk that made him annoying was also what made him endearing. Laurie missed him. She wanted to be here with Rorschach and not _Dan_.

"We should just call it a night," he said, shrugging.

"I hate you, Dan," she couldn't help but telling him in response.

Dan looked shocked, then he hung his head and looked incredibly sad. Laurie was instantly contrite.

"I'm sorry," she told him, quickly. "It's just that I really hate being pushed into things I don't want to do. I'm just angry about this whole situation and taking it out on you."

Laurie wouldn't have to explain all this to Rorschach -- he would just understand her and her moods, just like she understood his. As a matter of fact, she could never imagine telling him that she hated him, especially not as easily as she had with Nite Owl II.

"Maybe we should look harder," sighed Dan. "It's just that I can do the technical stuff and help out with the fighting, but it's usually Ozymandias who does the directing. I wish he was here."

Laurie nodded. So he did know how she felt.

"Maybe he and Rorschach can solve their own case and stop by here at the end of the night and solve this for us too," she said.

The two of them couldn't help but laugh at the idea. Laurie decided she didn't hate Dan as much.

They spent the next couple of hours studying the building's remains. Laurie stood off to the side while Dan hemmed and hawed over various devices that he used -- thermal scanner, radio waves, even a sonar for some reason. None of them revealed anything. Laurie was just amused that he was using these gadgets. She had a feeling it was his way of opening up windows for conversation. Whenever she pointed something of his out and asked him a question he would dive into the theory of physics and mechanics and ergodynamics and all the other things that would usually be found in a lecture hall and Laurie felt bored to death. She especially wanted to hang herself when he would go off on wild tangents until his subject matter had nothing to do with what they had started off with. Laurie thought they would be there forever until she realized that if she steered him in a direction as he spoke, he followed. She led them out of the building and into the ship. She wondered how Ozymandias dealt with the man without going insane. Maybe he was insane to begin with.

Dan dropped her off where she asked him to -- a few streets down from Edward Blake's house. She waved as he flew away and waited a few moments before she made her way back home.

Home -- it was strange to think of it as such. She was hit with a sudden pang of guilt as she thought of her mother sitting alone back in the place she used to call home. She wondered if her mother even realized she hadn't been back in two days. It made her sad to think that she hadn't; that she was still going on her drinking streak and not noticing her absent daughter.

Laurie came into an empty house, and it made her even sadder, somehow. She had not expected the Comedian to be back so early, but she was hoping that he would be by some miracle. She went into the kitchen and realized there was a note on the counter for her. She picked it up and read it.

"_Kid,_

_Damn _(The word was crossed out but still legible.) _Moloch escaped but you probably know that already. Several leads so I'm going after his a_ (Another crossed out word with only the first letter in view.) _hind so might be back really late. Don't want to find you dead from starving when I get home so left food. Eat any of the shit you want and leave the rest._"

The letter wasn't signed, but had a drawn circle with a smile in it at the end. Laurie giggled to herself. She could imagine Blake hunched over the countertop scribbling out the profanities that flowed too freely from him and somehow forgetting to leave out one of them because the words came so naturally that he overlooked it.

Laurie obeyed the note and walked to the refrigerator and opened it. Her eyes went wide. It seemed like Blake hadn't been able to decide what she was going to eat, so he had stuffed the entire thing full. She looked in the cabinets and realized he had done the same for them too. Smiling, she helped herself and sat at the table to eat. She looked around at the house around her. It was a warm place, but she was still alone and for a moment she saw Rorschach in her mind and really wished he was here. Hopeful, she wondered if he would visit her somehow, but recalled that she had been unable to tell him where her new residence was.

Sighing, she glumly picked at her food, unable to eat. She forced herself, worrying about Rorschach at the same time. She hoped his adventure with Ozymandias had been more rewarding than hers with Dan. She washed her plate and fork and retired for the night.

The next morning, the house was still empty, and this time Laurie worried about her father. She made breakfast and left the house, hoping she would run into someone she knew. Mainly Rorschach, though -- maybe her mother. But Rorschach wouldn't be in costume, and he probably wouldn't talk to her if he saw her out of it. And her mother? Probably drunk. Soon, Laurie was browsing the shops as she had the other day, peering in the windows, but mostly at her reflection because she was lost in thought.

"Oh hey, aren't you Laurie?" asked a male voice.

Laurie turned, heart beating fast, but when she looked, the voice belonged to a fairly tall man with huge glasses. He was wearing a brown leather jacket and had his hands in his pockets.

"Yes," she said, suspiciously. She was hoping it had been Rorschach because there was nobody else out there who she wouldn't be able to recognize otherwise. But no, the height was wrong. And she couldn't imagine Rorschach wearing glasses.

"It's me, Dan."

"Oh, hi."

"I remembered when you showed up in that... outfit for the first Crimebusters meeting. You know -- the one that never went through? You didn't have a mask on then."

"Yeah, yeah... my mother made me wear it."

"Your mother was the first Silk Spectre, right?"

"Yes, and the _only_ Silk Spectre."

"Right, sorry." Dan adjusted his glasses. "Say, do you want to go somewhere? You know, just on a walk or something."

"Sure, why not," sighed Laurie.

"I feel fortunate that I ran into you," said Dan. "I don't socialize much."

Laurie wasn't surprised. But she wisely kept her mouth shut this time.

"What about Ozymandias?" she asked him.

"Well, I know his name, but I've never seen him out of costume or anything. I have his number though. You know, for an emergency contact."

"Oh." Laurie looked around, wishing there was an excuse for escaping this conversation. She didn't find one. She ended up spending a couple more hours with Dan, browsing the shops and listening to him talk. They ate lunch at a diner and headed out afterwards, Dan on the subject of ornithology. Laurie sighed miserably. She was really bored.

"And then I thought of adding the notes I made back in my field research days to-- Ow!" Dan stumbled a bit as he ran into someone in the street. "Gosh, I'm sorry mister."

The man Dan had run into didn't seem to be paying attention to him, but looking at Laurie. Laurie smiled, recognizing him.

"Walter," she exclaimed. "It's good to see you."

For some reason, he gave her a pained look at that. He glanced over at Dan, who was adjusting his glasses, then wiping his hands on his pants.

"Hi, I'm Dan," he said, holding his hand out. Walter took it as if it was a dirty rag. He was also giving him an almost murderous expression that Dan seemed completely oblivious to. "Are you Laurie's friend?"

"Uh, yes," said Laurie, not sure how to explain otherwise. And it seemed wrong to describe him simply as some man she knew.

"Nice to meet you," said Dan, smiling. "I'm really sorry about running into you."

Walter nodded and leaned in to say something to Dan that Laurie couldn't hear. Then he hurried off, giving Laurie one last haunting look before he turned away.

"What did he say?" asked Laurie, watching Walter as he disappeared into the crowd. She felt disappointed.

"Oh, that he was in a hurry or something. I couldn't really hear it."

"I think I should go home," said Laurie. She was suddenly angry at Dan, though she couldn't explain why. She just felt as if he had ruined things, somehow.

"Well, all right." Dan shrugged. Then he reached into his pocket and started writing something down. "Here -- here's my number and address if you ever need help with anything."

"Uh, thanks," Laurie stared at the paper, astonished at how freely he gave her his information.

"We crime fighters need to keep in touch!" Dan called out to her as he walked away, waving as he went. Laurie waved back, then stuffed the paper in her back pocket. She looked around at the street and realized she had somehow managed to steer Dan to the dress shop where Walter worked. She walked by it now, peering inside but knowing he wouldn't be there. He had been walking in the opposite direction. Laurie frowned.

Laurie returned home with her head down. She went inside and sat at the kitchen table, feeling glum. She had been sitting for the better part of five minutes before she looked up and realized the Comedian was standing at the sink, eating from a plate. He was giving her a measured look.

"Oh, hi," said Laurie, brightening. "I didn't see you there."

"Yeah, I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice," he said. He resumed eating. He must have come in only minutes before her, because he hadn't bothered to change out of his costume. Laurie thought that he looked very different when he was dressed as the Comedian. That, and he seemed to be struggling to hide an anger that she could feel even from this distance.

"What's the matter?" she asked him. The Comedian startled her by slamming his plate down on the counter top.

"Goddamn fucking Moloch," he said, eyes blazing for a moment before he gave her that measured look again. Somehow, that look was more frightening than his outburst. He fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a cigar, which he lit. "Trailed the bastard yesterday but turns out he left the country."

"For good?"

"Who the fuck knows," he said, opening a cabinet to look inside. He pulled out a can and slammed the door shut, hard. It broke and fell onto the linoleum floor in two pieces.

"Hell," said the Comedian, laughing in spite of himself.

"Uncle Nelly paired me up with Nite Owl II yesterday," said Laurie, pouting. "We went to Moloch's hideout and all there was left were just useless remains."

"Oh yeah, saw your boyfriend last night with that freaky guy in the Egyptian getup -- The Ozy-Man," said the Comedian.

"Uh, he's not..."

"Was wondering if you broke up or something," he laughed.

"Uh, so," said Laurie, feeling so embarrassed she decided to change the subject. "Does this mean Moloch's escaped for good? Or do you think he'll try to get back in once the coast is clear?"

"That asshole better not consider coming back in here. If I find him..." he made a motion with his hands. Laurie realized he meant to break his neck, and shivered.

"Are you going to leave the country too?" she asked, feeling a lump gather in her throat. "To find him, I mean."

"Maybe -- probably," he said. "Seems like such a waste of time, though."

"Yeah." Laurie nodded and looked away. She was hoping he wouldn't go.

"Aw hell, I'm going to bed," said the Comedian. He messed up her hair as he walked by, surprising her. "Good night, kid."

Laurie smiled. It was only late afternoon. But of course, he must have been up all night. She got up and cleared her father's plate and washed it for him. She looked at the clock. If she got ready slowly, she would be in time for the Crimebusters meeting. She hoped that Rorschach and Ozymandias had fared better than she and Dan had so she could actually get back to working with Rorschach again.

-----

To be continued...


	20. Chapter 20

Ch. 20

Rorschach was in an ugly mood that day.

Rorschach had been proud of himself for not having killed Ozymandias the first ten minutes they spent gathering information before they headed towards his turf. Ozymandias was very pushy, and Rorschach didn't much like him. Not as much as he disliked Nite Owl II, but Ozymandias was slowly climbing the ladder up there. They had spent the night before looking for the mysterious source of the broadcast. Initially they found nothing, but Ozymandias was determined to find it, and they scaled the rooftops. It was hard work, considering Ozymandias had a grappling gun and he didn't. It really irked him that he had his fancy equipment. What ever happened to using your own appendages the good old fashioned way? They snooped in each building in the area and finding one that appeared suspicious to them they had entered it. Inside, there had been eight to ten mutilated bodies. They were slaughtered to such a degree that it was hard to tell what belonged to whom. Rorschach remembered the look of distaste Ozymandias had on his face when he saw the scene, and that was when he decided that he hated him.

"What happened here?" Ozymandias had asked, as if he had walked into a room where he had been keeping a week old puppy, and the puppy had made a mess.

"Murder," said Rorschach, considering it for another moment as he watched the man stalk around. Ozymandias actually smiled at him.

"Interesting," he said. "How interesting, look at this."

Rorschach threw up his hands and came to look. It was a smiling face drawn in the blood. It was quite reminiscent of the Comedian's trademark button.

Of course, Rorschach didn't suspect the Comedian; Ozymandias didn't either. But something was strange about find that in particular in a murder scene. They made their way to the docks to look for the Comedian. They didn't find him there. Ozymandias suggested that he might be on the lookout for Moloch. Rorschach figured he could be anywhere then, but Ozymandias was relentless. He wanted to track down the Comedian. He was so sure that he could do this himself. Rorschach scoffed at him at first, but he quickly realized just how clever Ozymandias was. In fact, he might be considerably more intelligent than he let on. That thought somehow brought a chill to Rorschach's spine. It was almost a cakewalk finding the Comedian, and even he seemed annoyed that they had discovered him. He had been short and terse with them, but Ozymandias informed him of the strange murder scene with the smiley face as if he were discussing the weather. Strangely enough, the Comedian was angry instead of laughing it off like he usually would have done.

"What the hell are they playing at, the frame game?" he had asked them. "Don't want to deal with this shit -- I'm already up to here in Moloch's crap as it is." Ozymandias assured him that he and Rorschach didn't view him as a suspect. He didn't care, though. He didn't care what other people thought. It just annoyed him that someone would steal the face.

After that conversation, Ozymandias had wanted to continue to investigate. Rorschach wanted to push him off a roof top. They spent almost all night theorizing. It was actually Ozymandias who did most of the talking while Rorschach watched his mouth move, sullen. He returned home to have enough time to sleep for a couple of hours before he had to get up to go to work. At work, they had an issue with a back order and it had taken all morning to straighten it out. By early afternoon, his boss had to send him down the street to pick up the dry cleaning they had sent out for altered dresses. That was when he had run into Laurie. And _Dan_.

Who the hell was Dan? Nightshade, Laurie; she hadn't told him anything about having any male friends. More than anything, it was the fact that this Dan was an annoying awkward bastard that drove him crazy. Why was she doing, going out with this man? What did she see in _him_? Walter had laughed then, a bitter laugh. It wasn't like he was in the running for the competition so it didn't matter. She wouldn't pick him over anything when it came to _that_. And yet, she had picked this Dan. Why? He wished he could ask her but knew he couldn't unless he somehow saw Dan again as Rorschach. Suffice to say, that little run in had put him in the ugly mood he was in now.

Rorschach made his way to Nelly's house early, hoping that he might have some time to talk to Nightshade before they got sent off again. He was the first one there.

"Oh, hi," said Nelly, looking surprised. "Please, have a seat. Nobody is here yet."

Rorschach made a point of standing. He concluded that most of his mood was Nelly's fault and hated him. Nite Owl II came in next, then he said something about realizing that he had forgotten something and left. Rorschach hated him as well. Then Ozymandias came in, talking to Nelly with that smug expression. Hate. Nightshade came in soon after, and he hated her for one brief second before he stopped himself, feeling bad about it. No, he didn't hate her. He was just angry with her. He was undeniably hurt that she hadn't told him about this Dan.

"Wow, it sure is nice to see you," said Nightshade, obviously unable to contain her excitement at seeing him. He was afraid she would hug him in front of everyone and watched her warily. "I could practically kiss you."

Rorschach moved away, and Nightshade laughed.

"I'm not going to! Come over here, I need to talk to you." She grabbed him by the arm and brought him closer. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever -- I know I just saw you yesterday, but it seems longer."

No, she had seen him just a couple of hours before. Didn't she know? Or was she just mocking him?

Rorschach cleared that idea out of his head. His line of thinking was getting ridiculous. Of course she wasn't -- she didn't even know who he was. He was just being paranoid.

"I'm not living with my mother anymore," she said.

"Oh?" Rorschach was studying her facial features, wishing he could reach out and pull away the mask that was partially obscuring her eyes from him. He had felt her absence dearly also, and he had to agree with her; it had seemed like it had been longer. He wanted to memorize what she looked like before she was taken away from him again. He dared to let his gaze dip lower than usual, below her neckline before he realized what he was doing. He looked away, surprised with himself.

"I'm living with.. you know, my dad."

Rorschach looked up at that. She was? Oh, he was glad to hear that. He felt a little relieved, though that uneasiness was still in him, stirring somewhere in the pit of his stomach.

"That's good," he told her.

"Yeah, it's... it's nice, so far," she said, nodding. "I wish I could spend more time with him though. And you. Now you know where I am if you want to visit."

She looked at him and bit her lip. It seemed as if she was going to say more, but she didn't. She looked up as Nite Owl II walked in, waving something in his hand at anyone who bothered to notice. She frowned.

"Had a run in with Nite Owl II this morning," she muttered to him. "I mean, without his disguise. He recognized me and decided to invite himself along."

Rorschach blinked at her, comprehending and yet unable to at the same time.

"I was glad enough when I was rid of him last night," she laughed. "Imagine my surprise when I got stuck with him out of costume, too."

"What is he like?" he asked her, tentatively.

"Oh, I don't know... very bookish looking I guess?"

Rorschach stared at Nite Owl II, who was deep in conversation with Nelly. So that had been _him_. Dan. What was he playing at? He thought he had made it clear to him that he didn't like where he was getting with Nightshade. He thought they had an understanding. Obviously not. Nelly started the blasted meeting and Rorschach stewed in a surprisingly acute bout of rage that threatened to explode. He watched as mouths moved and words were exchanged, probably describing what had happened yesterday, didn't matter. He just wanted to get his hands on Nite Owl II. Rorschach turned away, finding the open door leading outside far more inviting. He swiftly crossed the room and went out the door, pacing around in the driveway as he tried to get himself under control. What was wrong with him? He hadn't gotten that angry in a (_Ain't that right, whoreson?_) long time.

"Rorschach, what's the matter?"

Rorschach turned and saw Nightshade standing in the doorway, looking concerned. He tried to speak but he couldn't. He realized he was shaking. She frowned and closed the door behind her and she crossed the driveway to reach him.

"Nite Owl II," he told her, feeling mortified to find that his voice was trembling. "Don't like him hanging around you. Upsetting."

Nightshade nodded, sighing as if in deep frustration.

"Tell me about it," she said, rolling her eyes. "I really can't stand him. I don't want to be stuck with him anymore. I just wish I could be back with you again."

Rorschach found himself hugging her, and he was astonished to find that he was crying. What was he crying over? He didn't remember anymore. Nightshade was hugging him back and he drew her even closer, wishing he didn't have to let go.

"Rorschach, are you all right?" asked Nightshade, a concerned hand resting below his neck, the other on his mid back. "You're shaking."

Rorschach had to muster up as much strength as he could to push away from her. He really was a mess.

"F-Fine," he said. He turned away, hoping his mask wasn't staining and she could see. He tried to compose himself as he looked at her. He hoped for everyone's sake that Nite Owl II didn't decide to be nosy and walk outside to join them. He wasn't sure if he would be able to stop himself from killing him.

Rorschach was breathing heavily, closing his eyes for a moment to ease himself into a calmer state. He felt something brush against his arm and he looked up. It was Nightshade, of course. She was looking for his eyes through the mask, and she found them briefly.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked him. She reached out with a tentative hand to grasp at his own. He let her take it.

"Let's go out on our own," he told her. "No more Crimebusters, they can take care of their own problems."

Laurie smiled.

"I'd like that. Actually, I don't mind the Crimebusters so much as being paired up with Nite Owl II and you with Ozymandias."

Rorschach nodded but didn't say anything. He realized she had still been holding his hand and he ran his thumb across her knuckles. She flinched as if startled and tightened her grip. They looked at each other then at their hands as if surprised, but neither of them made the move to let go.

"Hey Rorschach," said Nightshade, finally. He was surprised to find that her cheeks had gone red. "Why don't we give them an ultimatum -- either they let us work together, or we don't work with them at all. I'm sure Nelly will just deal with it. He isn't one for confrontation."

"Yes," said Rorschach, feeling so relieved it made him feel faint. He swayed for a moment and looked skyward. The stars were brilliant tonight, despite the light pollution from the city.

Nightshade smiled and nodded, and they walked back to the door, hands letting go as they went inside. Ozymandias was still talking to Nelly and Nite Owl II, and it seemed they had hardly noticed their absence.

"In any case, I would like to investigate further," said Ozymandias. "If these murders continue, we might actually have a serial killer on the loose."

"A little out of your usual dealings, isn't it?" asked Nightshade, walking up to them. "Don't you usually deal with organized crime syndicates?"

"Yes, but we must step out of our boundaries once in a while." The smile he gave her was eerie given the context.

"Indeed," said Nelly. Rorschach noticed now that the man looked like he had a headache.

"So should we resume yesterday's formation, or..." Nite Owl II started to ask.

"No," said three voices at once. Nelly looked up, surprised. Nite Owl II just seemed mildly startled.

"If I'm going to be coming to these meetings anymore, I'm going to be working with Rorschach and no one else," said Nightshade. Rorschach felt nothing but warmth for her.

"I agree," he said, happily.

"And I for one would prefer to work alone with this case," said Ozymandias. "No offense."

"Uh yes, of course not," said Nite Owl II, looking disappointed.

"Considering that the Moloch case is impossible to solve given the current circumstances, I doubt if we will need to meet for a while," said Nelson.

"Good," said Rorschach. Nightshade laughed, and he felt better. Suddenly seeing Nite Owl II didn't seem to bother him as much.

"How will I reach you if I need to...?" Nelly started to ask, but everyone was already making their way out the door.

"I'm sure you'll find a way," Rorschach told him.

"And you can always reach me at my number," said Ozymandias.

"Yes, it's written in all the men's rooms with 'Call me for a good time'," said Nightshade. Rorschach was surprised. Nite Owl II laughed, oddly enough. Ozymandias ignored the comment. They didn't even wait for Nelly to reply. Nightshade grabbed Rorschach's arm and marched them away from the house.

"I'm glad to be out of there," she said, sighing. "I have to admit though, I don't really feel like fighting crime tonight."

Rorschach nodded. He didn't want to say it, but he didn't much feel like it either. It seemed that Ozymandias had dampened his fervor for now. They patrolled the streets like they did in the old days. Rorschach still couldn't believe they had been apart for only a few. The night was quiet -- they stopped a mugging, but that was about it. Rorschach walked Nightshade home like he usually did, and earlier than usual, but this time he went further with her and accompanied her to the door.

"Well, good night," said Nightshade, looking at him with a smile on her face. Then she brightened as if she remembered something pleasant. "Oh! Actually, why don't you come in?"

Rorschach blinked at her, taken aback. What was she asking? But she was laughing already.

"You know, I forget sometimes that I don't have someone domineering waiting inside to pounce," she said, opening the door. "Come in -- you met my dad; he doesn't bite much."

Nightshade walked inside. He started to refuse, but then she took off her mask and tossed her head a little and he had to come inside. He saw the name plaque next to door as he stepped inside: Edward M. Blake. Rorschach peered in cautiously as he ventured further in. It was warm and inviting, and there was the faint drone of a television set. The Comedian, no, Blake -- was sitting on the couch with the news on, but actually reading the newspaper. Rorschach was surprised to see him out of costume, but of course, this was his own home.

"Hey kids," said Blake, looking up briefly and talking through his cigar. "I guess you made up, huh?"

Laurie laughed.

"I hope you don't mind me bringing Rorschach home -- I just figured, since he knows, and all--..."

"Nah, don't care. In fact, bring all your friends."

"I don't have any others."

"That's okay -- don't have any myself."

Blake laughed, but he seemed a little bitter. He looked up at Rorschach.

"Hey, close the door, will you?"

Rorschach obeyed and closed the door. It was surreal to see Blake like this, looking normal without his striped armor and rifles.

"Rorschach, are you hungry?" Laurie asked him. He started to follow her as she walked into the kitchen. "I could make us a very late dinner."

Rorschach didn't know how to respond. He was hungry -- he hadn't eaten lunch or dinner -- but at the same time he didn't know how to handle having a dinner in someone's home without drawing attention to who he was beneath the mask.

"Why don't you sit down?" asked Laurie. "I'll make something right now."

Rorschach sat down at the table, his hands folded in front of him. His heart was racing, and he felt nervous. However, he couldn't help but stay where he was -- so he did.

-----

To be continued...


	21. Chapter 21

Ch. 21

Laurie kept looking up to see if Rorschach was still there -- he was. She could hear the television in the living room, but other than that, the house was practically silent. She couldn't even hear Rorschach shift in his seat. Once in a while she would turn and smile at him, and she couldn't tell if he was smiling back or even registering her own gesture because he wasn't moving. For an instant she wondered if he was asleep and started to laugh at the idea.

"What?" he asked her.

"Oh, nothing."

"Hrm," he said. He didn't pry like he usually did, and she wondered if he was all right. He didn't seem to be himself back at the Crimebusters meeting.

She hadn't felt like herself, either. She still didn't feel like herself. She turned to pull something out of the cabinet while trying to discreetly watch Rorschach at the same time. He was still sitting at the table with his hands out in front of him, posture straight in his chair.

It took a while to prepare dinner; distracted as Laurie was, she kept forgetting to add things and which drawers kept certain utensils. Half an hour had gone by before she turned and set a plate in front of Rorschach and another on the table for herself.

"Here, dig in," she told him. Then she remembered Blake and went into the living room. He was still reading the paper.

Laurie opened her mouth, then she realized she hadn't had the opportunity to address him before. She didn't know what to call him -- Edward? Eddie? Blake? Comedian? Dad?

"Uh, Dad?" said Laurie, bracing herself nervously.

"Mm?" said Blake, pleasantly, as if she had called him that a hundred times before.

"Have you eaten dinner?"

"Mm-hmm," he said. For a moment she wondered if he had actually heard her or if he was just too busy reading.

"Okay." Laurie smiled.

Laurie came back to the kitchen to find Rorschach waiting for her.

"Please, eat," she told him, sitting down. She watched him for a moment before she started eating. She chided herself for not having dinner earlier, before she had left the house. She should know better by now.

Laurie saw Rorschach finally move his hand towards the fork next to his plate, and for a second she had a flashback of an image she had come up with, the one of Rorschach eating through his mask. She was almost surprised when he put his hands to his face and pulled up his mask a little. Not all the way, just until it hung snugly over the tip of his nose so only his mouth was exposed. Laurie's eyes widened as she looked at him and he paused as if to regard her so she continued to eat, embarrassed. He started to eat as well, and Laurie almost shook her head at how unbelievable this all seemed.

"I hope you like it," she told him. He paused for a moment before nodding. She felt her eyes drawn to his mouth; now that it was visible it was pretty much the focal point. She also realized that with the mask drawn up part of his throat was exposed.

Rorschach would stop and look at her, and she would look down again and continue to eat. A few moments later she would look up at him and the cycle continued until they were finished eating. Laurie got up to clear the table, approaching Rorschach to collect his plate. He drew away quickly and pulled down his mask as she came closer.

"I wasn't going to try anything," she told him, a little offended.

Rorschach nodded and seemed apologetic. He watched her as she washed their plates and forks. Done, Laurie turned around.

"Come on," she told him. She meant to show him around the house, but when they went into the living room, she realized Blake had gone to bed. She turned to Rorschach and smiled, gesturing towards the couch as she fiddled with the television set.

The news was pretty much the only thing on at this hour, and two debaters were tersely discussing increased U.S. involvement in the Vietnam war. Laurie watched the men argue while she let her mind wander. She thought of her mother, and felt guilty as she usually did. She briefly wondered if she should call her soon, just to let her know she was all right. Laurie's mind went to the subject at hand. Thinking of this far away country with American troops, Laurie remembered her father's plan of chasing Moloch through foreign lands. She frowned and worried for him. She knew he could take care of himself, but she didn't like the idea of him leaving. Especially not after they had started to build a relationship.

Laurie glanced over at Rorschach, and he tilted his head to look at her when she did. They regarded each other for a moment, television personalities still chattering in the background. Laurie inched closer to him, stopping after each small movement to see if he would show resistance. She looked at him nervously before placing her head on his shoulder. She was pleasantly surprised when he allowed himself to put his arm around her. She placed her own arm around his torso and left it there. They didn't say a word as they watched the television. Safe and content, she felt her eyelids grow heavier. As she drifted off to sleep, she barely felt Rorschach's head falling gently into place on top of hers.

Laurie woke up to a strange sense of deja vu. Then she remembered that she had fallen asleep on Blake's couch again. She thought she felt someone stroking her hair, but when she sat up, she saw Rorschach looking as he had the night before. She couldn't even tell if he was awake through the mask, though she was pretty sure he was.

"Wow," said Laurie, looking around at the bright room, lit up from the morning sun. "I can't believe we fell asleep like that."

Rorschach nodded to her. She saw him stretch his shoulders and back a little. Laurie got up and turned the television set back off before sitting down again. She smiled at Rorschach before settling back into her earlier position next to him. He seemed tense now, but he held her nonetheless. They must have stayed like that for an hour, and Laurie didn't mind if they were like that forever. Hand still on his ribcage, she started to play with the fabric of his jacket, lazily moving her fingers up his chest. He reached out and grabbed her hand as if to stop her, but he didn't let go. Laurie paused for a moment before turning the angle of her head so that she was now almost face to face with him. She narrowed her eyes to study his mask, hoping that somehow through the pattern she would see some semblance of a human face. She didn't.

Laurie reached out with her remaining hand and paused near Rorschach's head to see his reaction, but he sat there, frozen -- no complaints. She ran her fingertips down the side of his mask to trace a jawline. She eased one finger down his chin and found the edge of the mask and slowly eased up. He still didn't stop her. She pulled the mask up as he had previously done at the dinner table and didn't go further than that. She looked at where his eyes could be, then at his mouth. He was sitting still as if he was observing her to see what she would do next. She leaned in and kissed him.

Laurie, in her hurry, had missed her mark and had actually ended up kissing his lower lip before drawing back to look at him with her eyes open wide. She could feel her heart racing as she waited to see if he would react. She felt as if she was going to faint when he put his hands on the sides of her face and kissed her in return. It was a chaste kiss that lingered as if he wanted to draw it out into something else. After he pulled away, she kissed his jaw. He made a sharp intake when she kissed his throat. He grabbed her arm as if in protest, so she stopped. Her hands were on his chest and she could feel his quickened pulse under her palm. He opened his mouth as if to say something, perhaps kiss her again, but instead he drew up his hands and pulled down his mask, securing it under his scarf once more. Laurie drew away and looked at her hands, which were now in her lap. She suddenly felt guilty.

"Wow," she said, not looking at him. "I don't even know your name."

She felt Rorschach stir on the couch next to her and she looked up. It didn't look like he had moved at all, on second glance. He looked away and she studied his masked profile for the long pause before he finally stood up.

"I'm sorry," he said, and it sounded like he meant it. "Should go now."

Laurie nodded, unable to help the tears that came to her eyes as she watched him leave. He turned and regarded her for a moment when he reached the doorway and she forced herself to smile at him. Blake walked in, saw her, and started to speak, then he turned his head as Rorschach opened the door. He watched as Rorschach left, closing the door behind him. Then he turned to Laurie again.

"What's going on -- you two break up again?" Blake asked her. He seemed more serious than joking, however.

"Oh, I don't know," said Laurie, putting her face in her hands. "I did something stupid."

"What?" Blake sounded calm, but it looked like his eyes were going to fall out of his head.

"I kissed him," Laurie laughed, embarrassed that she was telling him. "I can't believe I did that -- I don't even know what he looks like underneath the mask or who he is."

Blake put his hand to his face, and Laurie wondered if he was angry or upset, but when he finally took his hand away, he actually looked relieved. Laurie suspiciously wondered if he had just been laughing at her.

"So, what, then he high-tailed it out of here?" he asked.

"Well, pretty much... I mean, I thought he was fine with the...the kissing, but I don't know -- he just got really uncomfortable."

Blake nodded solemnly. Then he looked at the clock, then at her.

"Did he spend the night here?" he asked, almost casually.

"We just fell asleep," said Laurie, feeling her face grow hot. "We didn't do anything..."

"Well yeah," he said, as if that was the most obvious thing on the planet.

"I just feel really dumb now, Dad," she said. Blake gave her an odd look -- didn't he remember when she called him that yesterday? Laurie shook her head. "I thought he liked me -- I wanted to show him that I did too, that's all."

Blake looked away. When he looked back, he appeared uncomfortable.

"You know, uh, Laurie," he said, scratching his head. "Maybe you shouldn't show him anything until he shows you something first."

Laurie stared at him.

"Not like that," he laughed. "I mean, he's getting pretty hot pants going around collecting balls in his court that you keep throwing at him. He should throw something back for once."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, make a fella work for something and he'll be much more appreciative of it."

Laurie stared at him again, and Blake looked agitated. He started to pace.

"Don't give him anything," he told her, finally. "Make him give you everything first. He needs to learn to get moving instead of making you do all the work."

"I don't think he would do anything if I just left it as it was," Laurie laughed, bitterly.

"Then that's his loss," he said. He looked quite pained as he looked straight into Laurie's eyes. "He can feel like the asshole later for not making a move while he had a chance. Or making the wrong one. Meanwhile, you'll be safe."

Laurie briefly wondered what he meant by 'safe', but she understood his sentiment and smiled.

"Thanks," she told him.

"Now, how about some eggs?" said her father, rubbing his hands together. Laurie laughed.

Blake made his eggs while Laurie watched him thoughtfully.

"Are you going to look for Moloch soon?" she asked him.

Blake paused, facing her now, though his eyes were to the side in a contemplative gesture.

"No, forget it," he said, smiling a little. "It's all right -- I think I'm better off here anyway. He can go to hell."

Laurie felt relieved, and wondered how much of a part she played in his decision to stay. They ate in silence, then after breakfast Blake walked out to get the paper and sat on the couch to read as he had done the night before. Laurie looked out the window for a long while, thinking about Rorschach. It hurt a little now to think about him, actually. She leaned forward and rested her chin on her folded arms, feeling glum. She wondered if it would be really awkward working with him that night, and she couldn't bear to think of it.

Laurie got up and went into the living room to peer over her dad's shoulder.

"Hey, there's a shadow here where I need light to read," he said, pointing at the paper, but he looked up and smiled at her.

"We should do something," she told him. "Go somewhere, and forget about crime fighting."

"We must be doing hell of a something if it takes all day and goes into the night," he said, though he was positioning himself as if to get up.

"Are we going?" she asked him, excited.

Blake got up and tossed the newspaper down on the couch.

"Yeah," he said, grinning. "Though I'm still not sure what this something is."

"Yes!" said Laurie, practically dancing around him. She was elated. Blake laughed.

"All right, go get dressed," he told her.

Laurie looked down, surprised. She had somehow fallen asleep in her costume again. She shrugged and ran to her room, looking forward to the day. She would forget about everything for now and see how she felt about her situation later.

-----

To be continued...

-----

Author's Note: I would like to thank Vaudeville for the couch idea, as well as the Blake dynamics... I was in a real bend trying to write this chapter, and she really helped me pull things along again. Also a quick thanks to my roommate, who encourages me with Walter and Laurie anecdotes.


	22. Chapter 22

Ch. 22

Nightshade hadn't been out in two nights. The first night, Rorschach had shrugged it off. The second night, he couldn't help but feel a little morose. At first he had worried, but he had checked up on her -- secretly, of course -- and she seemed perfectly fine. It was just Laurie, however -- it seemed Nightshade suddenly didn't want to get into crime fighting anymore. Rorschach was tempted to visit her at home, but he felt he had an obligation to explain himself to her somehow, and he really didn't have anything to say for himself.

Rorschach tried to think about what had happened between him and Laurie. Every time he started focusing too much on it, however, he would get an awful, almost panicked feeling and he would shake his concentration away just to get away from it. He slept poorly the past couple of days, and he didn't fare so well during his waking hours, either. It was almost as if he had gone insane, thinking about Laurie practically every instant. He needed his focus but it was gone for now, and all he had left to do was feel sorry for himself.

Brooding and sullen, Rorschach only went a few minutes before he was thinking about her again. He would think about her hair and eyes -- fine, then her smile, still fine -- then he would get carried away and remember how she had felt against him, how her hands felt on him as she put her lips on his, and then he would growl in frustration. _Focus_. He really didn't need this right now. He remembered the way her eyes peered up at him, wide and innocent as her fingers traced his mask to slowly lift it...

Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

Rorschach stalked the streets, roughly handling anybody who dared to commit a sin in his path. He even snarled at a jaywalker, who turned and ran as fast as he could away from Rorschach. Rorschach had to take a break for a while after that. He sat on a curb and tried to calm himself. He really was getting out of control lately. Reflecting on his behavior as of yet, he felt ashamed. A handle on his emotions was all he had, pretty much, and his grip was slipping and soon he wouldn't have that either.

Rorschach wished he could close his eyes and drown out the sounds around him, stifle his thoughts and sink into a peaceful oblivion. But Nightshade wasn't there with him tonight, and he had nobody to watch his back. She probably hated him, too, and he didn't blame her one bit.

Thinking about Nightshade -- Laurie, he felt a pang of guilt and despair. Why couldn't he just tell her his name? Why hadn't he? Dan, _Dan_, damn that Dan, had told her his life history, Rorschach was sure of it, as well as his name. All so easily too, to someone who he had been working with for one day. Rorschach had known Nightshade for two years, nearly going on three, and he couldn't even give her his name.

Searching for an answer, Rorschach remembered that fateful day in the dress shop when she had come in, looking radiant and beautiful. That day he knew. He had known then that he felt something for her, something so deep within him that it scared him to look at and so he had covered it carefully; watching her for anything, any bad behavior or indiscretion she committed that would ruin it, take it away so he wouldn't feel the way he did. It was easy to drown it out when she was Nightshade because then it meant they had a business deal. You just didn't get too involved with your partner -- otherwise, you could get distracted and hurt, possibly killed. When they became friends, it didn't bother him so much, either. He didn't have any other friends and he was happy to have one to call his own. He liked having his barriers and boundaries and as long as they were left as they were he was happy. Now, there were too many blurred lines between him and Laurie. He couldn't figure out where his feelings for her began or ended. He cared for her deeply as a friend, and respected her as someone he worked with, but then there was something else that he was holding back that frightened him to no end. It was that control that was giving away, like a dam that had been carefully built over the years. Cracks had begun to appear and he was scared to say the least. He couldn't remember when he had last been so afraid of anything.

Rorschach burned with shame as he stood up and started to walk, rapid steps rushing him quickly through the blocks. He knew why he didn't want to tell her his name. It was because the name meant something to her.

If he had never met her outside of their crime fighting lives, he wouldn't mind so much, he thought. But she knew Walter, and if he said that name to her, then it wouldn't matter anymore if he had the mask or not because she would just know. She would know who was under the mask and then the image he had made for himself would be broken. Rorschach was a symbol, a symbol that carried him through the night -- a carefully crafted image that drew out the right emotion in people. Fear. That symbol carried a purpose, and if anyone were to see what was underneath that mask, then that would be all they saw from then on. Rorschach wouldn't _be_ anymore, and then he would be left with nothing.

Rorschach sighed deeply. Well, when he thought of it, it wasn't just the fact that she had seen his face. He had been foolish, you see, and he had given away his feelings far too easily and too early on. He had made that dress for her, and he just couldn't resist adding a little something. He couldn't help but write that note. Just two words, but he had poured everything he had into it. Into that dress as well, but the note was his everything.

_For Laurie_, he had written. I am giving this to you. I made this dress, and I put my all into it, and now I am giving it... giving _this_, to _you_. Walter felt foolish afterwards, worried that she would know and somehow be offended -- after all, wasn't he implying something more with those words? What did people do when they gave themselves to one another? Words like that only opened doors that should remain closed lest improprieties take place. He didn't want that.

And yet he did. No, no... yes.

Rorschach shook his head, tormented. He hated his thoughts. His mind -- the awful way his mind would dissect and absorb his surroundings. When it came to Nightshade, Laurie, there were things he felt and thought about her that he wished he didn't. She was good -- she wasn't tainted or blemished with a track list of impure or wicked deeds under her belt. Thinking these things about her, he was doing a disservice to her, and he was thoroughly disgusted with himself. She wasn't an object, she was a person, and you don't think of a person like _that_.

So carefully, he had stored away any stray thoughts, any details about her that he noticed that became indecent in his mind. Carefully stored away and guarded with strict determination.

Oh, but then she had kissed him. Why did she have to do that? Why couldn't she just leave things as they were? Rorschach had been so happy when they were finally back together. Things would be as they were in the old days when they had first started fighting side by side. At this point he wasn't sure if they could regain what they had before all this had happened to complicate things. Of course, on top of everything else he had used her -- she hadn't just kissed him, he had kissed her as well, encouraged her, even. Then he had left, and he couldn't even tell her his name.

Rorschach was mortified. He wasn't one to kiss and discard. In fact, he had never...

Though a simple gesture to many people, to him a kiss held so much meaning, as much meaning as two words could have. The right words, the right kiss. He felt like a bastard for stealing that kiss, that meaning, from her. He had stolen it, couldn't pay for it with his own vulnerability. Rorschach hated himself. And he wouldn't blame it if she hated him too. In fact, he wished she did. Maybe that would be for the best. Then at least she would be safe from him and his _thoughts_.

Up ahead, Rorschach saw a figure move out of the alley and into the night. The figure, apparently male, seemed to move with a purpose, and for a moment Rorschach considered following him, then decided against the idea. His stomach was twisting him up inside, and he didn't have the heart to investigate. He passed the alley and almost walked by it, but something made him stop cold. He looked around, then walked further in to investigate. He got to the end and found three people, dead, mutilated, discarded. They were two men, one woman. Fully clothed, as if stabbed through their garments; they didn't look like residents of the area. They were too richly dressed. The murder on itself was a disturbing sight to witness as it was. It was the smile on the ground beside them that made it chilling.

Rorschach studied the smile for the longest time. It was drawn out in orange paint, careful brush strokes making it all too obvious that it was not from just a simple spray can. Spray cans were quick, this -- there was nothing quick about it. The smile was almost perfect, as if someone had taken great pains to draw it. He could imagine someone kneeling over the dead bodies as blood pooled around them, pausing on the details of their great work of art. Rorschach wanted to vomit. He for one wished he had followed the figure as his instinct had first told him. He should have listened to his instinct, but he had messed up. Who could blame him though? If he had followed his instinct those two days before at Laurie's house, he would have many more things to regret this very moment. No, he just couldn't trust himself to make the right decisions right now.

Rorschach looked around as he left the alley. He half expected Ozymandias to be there, since he had seemed so hot on the trail of what was now apparently a serial killer as Ozymandias had suspected. For one brief, sick moment he wondered if it was Ozymandias who was the perpetrator. No -- it couldn't be. No, on second thought, that was a ridiculous idea. If Ozymandias planned on murdering people, he wouldn't be so obvious. It would be quick, quiet, and he wouldn't spend the time to draw too much attention to it.

Unless he wanted to, of course. Rorschach felt a little spooked by the idea, by the fact that he could so easily imagine Ozymandias as a murderer.

Rorschach found Ozymandias an hour later. Ozymandias had not spotted him, and for a moment Rorschach considered leaving him be. But there had been a murder and if this man wanted to solve this, Rorschach couldn't just stand by and watch. He had seen the bodies -- that meant he was involved, at least to an extent. He had to pay his dues and at least assist by pointing Ozymandias in the right direction.

"Oh," said Ozymandias, as Rorschach approached. "Hello."

"Found bodies in alley on Madison," said Rorschach. "Seen them?"

"No, actually," said Ozymandias, giving him a curious look. "Thank you."

Rorschach looked around, not really sure what to say.

"Saw the killer," Rorschach muttered. "Presumably."

Ozymandias' eyes were wide.

"What did they look like?" he asked.

"Didn't get a close look, probably male."

"I see."

"That's all."

Rorschach turned and left. He was almost out of earshot when Ozymandias spoke.

"Would you mind assisting me?" he asked.

Rorschach paused and looked at Ozymandias, confused.

"Thought you wanted to work on it yourself."

"Just not with Nite Owl II, actually," admitted Ozymandias.

"Hurm."

Rorschach didn't feel much like anything that night, let alone being taken along for an audience to Ozymandias' one-man show. Then again, he was in a despondent mood -- what would he do by himself? Besides, after seeing the murderer slip past him he felt, to a degree, responsible for his capture.

Rorschach and Ozymandias walked in silence, towards Madison and that cold alley with the three dead bodies. Rorschach decided the scene would be a great complement to his mood.

"I know you have been wondering about me, and Nite Owl II in particular," said Ozymandias, suddenly.

Rorschach almost stopped, surprised by this sudden statement. He glanced at Ozymandias but stayed silent.

"Nothing ever happened between us, you know," said Ozymandias. His tone was matter-of-fact. "He can be so... clueless, sometimes."

Rorschach nodded. He would much rather not hear this, but he agreed about Nite Owl II for certain, and he found enjoyment in hearing disparaging remarks being made towards the man. He didn't hate Nite Owl II as much as he had before, but there was still something about him that annoyed him to no end.

"I get so frustrated with him," Ozymandias continued. "He has so much potential, and yet I feel as if he is just throwing it away. He really is an intelligent man -- if only he would stop and think once in a while."

"And just how intelligent are you, Ozymandias?" Rorschach asked.

Ozymandias looked slightly taken aback. Then he laughed.

"See, you have potential too," he said. "And you have done the same."

"And what is this potential you see?" Rorschach asked, tersely.

Ozymandias looked far away.

"My parents used to be rich," he told him. "They gave me everything, all their fortunes, but I discarded them. I knew I could reach my fullest potential only if I rely on my own from the start and not on the charity of others."

"And you're rich now?"

"Not quite," laughed Ozymandias. "But I am rich with experience for a man my age."

"And yet you're all alone -- just like me."

"Well..." Ozymandias finally seemed to falter. "There is more to life than mere association. Sometimes your peers can let you down as much as boost you up."

Rorschach grunted. Ozymandias seemed to regain his confidence again.

"Besides, I thought you had someone -- or am I mistaken?" asked Ozymandias.

"I don't know who you mean."

"Your partner? Nightshade?"

Rorschach said nothing. Ozymandias frowned a little.

"I'm sorry," he said to Rorschach. It was so strange how sincere he sounded whenever he said those words. "I suppose I just made my assumptions. I guess we are even in that regard."

Rorschach felt absolutely miserable. He wished he could stop walking, stop moving -- just stop. Be still for a while and let the world go by without him.

"Sometimes I wonder if we are doing the world any favors through our actions," said Ozymandias, softly, as if he had somehow felt Rorschach's pained thoughts. "I look at the people we put behind bars, the progress we are making, and at the same time notice how much more is going around in the world that will never be resolved... It seems as if what we are doing is so futile -- we need grander actions for issues of equal proportions."

"We're doing just fine," said Rorschach.

"Are we really? All we're doing is scratching at a disease in an attempt to make it go away. We need to start making bigger changes -- apply the cure rather than mere antiseptics as you may say it -- or all this is for nothing."

"Heard of Kitty Genovese?"

Ozymandias paused.

"Yes, I think I have, a few years back."

"She was stabbed and assaulted. Not so surprising in a place like this. Thing is, everyone was watching and nobody did a thing about it."

"Ah yes, now I remember. By the time anyone had called the police, it had been too late, hadn't it?"

"Yes."

Rorschach was silent for a long while, and Ozymandias waited patiently without prodding him. Rorschach had to strain to push out the words. His distress was making him withdrawn and it was hard to speak.

"If...If one person had stepped up," said Rorschach, finally, "She might be alive right now. Everyone was waiting for someone else to do the right thing -- in the end, nobody did. But if one person had, then I think... I think more would have stepped in."

"And your meaning is?"

"We need to be that one person, the one who does something. We are making a difference. We're setting an example, showing this city, this world, that we won't stand by and let go of our principles."

"And is that why you fight at night? Is that why you put on the mask?" Ozymandias was peering at him, fascinated.

Rorschach looked away. He wished this night was over and he could wake up in a new world where all this didn't matter.

"Yes," he said, finally. For some reason it caused him great heartache to say that one word.

Ozymandias smiled at him, and to Rorschach it seemed as if a great weight had lifted off of the young man. It was so unfortunate for Rorschach that the weight on his own shoulders had only become heavier.

-----

To be continued...


	23. Chapter 23

Ch. 23

"They call him Agent Orange. Can you believe this shit?" asked Blake, holding up the newspaper as if it was dirty.

Laurie raised an eyebrow at her father. He shook his head.

"Sorry," he laughed. "But seriously. Agent Orange?"

Laurie obediently read the script before her as he handed her the paper. Murders, orange smiles, media calls him Agent Orange. Just like the Vietnam war everyone was obsessed over these days. Laurie didn't care.

She hadn't seen Rorschach in over a week, and she was starting to feel quite angry with him. At first when he hadn't turned up, she thought he would come around within a few days or so, but now that it had been a while and she had more time to think about it, she couldn't help but feel her anger rise in degree. In fact, the more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

"Don't know why I read this shit anymore, sorry -- don't know why I read it because it's full of garbage," muttered Blake, getting up and paying the check. He and Laurie had gone to a cafe to have lunch. It was such a nice day, and Laurie was in too bad of a mood to enjoy it. She walked in silence with her father for a few blocks before he sighed.

"All right kid, what's the issue?" he asked, smiling.

"I dunno."

"Come on -- I see storm clouds coming and the sun's still out so I know it can't be the weather."

Laurie couldn't help but smile at that.

"I haven't seen Rorschach in over a week," she said, folding her arms. "I can't believe he hasn't visited or anything."

"Well, you haven't been out at night lately, have you?"

"No."

"Wish I could tell you I've seen him, but as you know, I haven't been out that much myself."

Laurie nodded. The two of them had been "lazing it up and getting fat and content", as Blake had put it so nicely a few days ago.

"I don't know, Dad -- don't you think it's kind of rude that after all that... happened, he can't even stop by to say hello? I mean, sure, I'd like an apology or to talk about what went on, but if I can't have that, I'd much rather he would at the least check on me. We were, first and foremost, supposed to be friends, after all."

Blake nodded and had a neutral expression. He kept his eyes ahead of them, but he seemed to be listening.

"How can you know someone for over two years and not show the common decency to come knocking at the door for a quick hello?"

Blake scratched his head and nodded again.

"You know what he said when I told him I still didn't even know his name? After he kissed me? He said, "I'm sorry", and left, just like that -- like we couldn't be bothered with this hanging over us. I thought we were better than that."

"Yeah," said Blake, nodding once more. "So, how come you haven't gone out either? You know, find him?"

"I don't know," sighed Laurie. "At first I thought it would be too awkward to go out and act like nothing happened, but then things got worse the more time went by. Now I'm mad and I don't know if I want to talk to him."

Blake smiled briefly, and looked like he was about to say something, but then his face darkened.

"Shit," he muttered. "Hell."

Laurie looked up at her father, confused, before she followed his eyes and felt the world shrink away from her. Up ahead in their path on the sidewalk was Sally, looking angry and folding her arms, waiting for them to catch up to where she was standing. Laurie and her father had stopped dead in their tracks, however, and Sally ended up having to storm the gap between them.

"I didn't think it was true," said Sally, shaking her head. "Nelly said he had seen you two walking around town, but I couldn't believe it. I had to see it for myself."

"Uh, hi Mom," said Laurie, feeling frightened. Her mother looked better than she had since the last time they had spoken, but she was also looking like she was being guided by hell fire.

"Laurie, you stay out of this," said Sally, as if Laurie had been attempting to intervene, somehow. "Edward Blake, do you know what I've been hearing? I've been hearing that the Comedian has taken a liking to _my_ daughter because he hadn't been able to get to me when I was younger."

"Sally," said Blake, voice going even deeper than usual. "Don't tell me this is what I think I'm hearing."

"It's exactly what you think it is, Edward," she hissed, "And you know it more than anyone because it's true."

"Are you kidding me?" Blake was starting to look angry now. "What kind of sick place do you think I come from, Sally, insinuating that?"

"Oh, I know what kind of things you're capable of," she said. "You may have forgotten, but I haven't; neither have Hollis and the others."

"I thought we were past that already -- why are you bringing this up now?"

"Because I don't want you hurting Laurie any more than you already have."

"Excuse me?" Blake's voice was starting to rise and he looked like he was going to strangle her. "I wasn't the one who threw her out into the street, Sally -- you think in your twisted mind that I'm bad for her? What would she do out there with the real freaks?"

"Real...?" Sally looked incredulous. "You really don't see yourself, do you? Truly see yourself?"

"Sal--"

"No, you think you make your own rules, do whatever suits you as long as you're happy, right?"

"N--"

"You wouldn't believe how humiliated I was, hearing about my daughter with you, Eddie, it's so shameful."

"And I'm sure you played the saint while you forgot to mention to _these people_ that I'm her fucking father, correct? Or did you just let Laurence back in to say your shit for you?"

"You keep Laurence out of this -- that life is over and you know it."

"I don't know, Sally, you seem kinda keen about digging up the past."

"You want to talk about the past? Why don't you tell your daughter what you're really capable of?"

"Sally," said Blake, giving her a look of warning. "Don't."

"You didn't tell her? Of course you didn't. Not too convenient for you, is it, if you tell her the truth for once."

"I don't think that's necessary." Blake almost looked pale now. His anger seemed to have drained away, and he seemed faint.

"Oh yes it is," Sally finally turned to Laurie. "Tell your daughter. Right now. Tell her what you did to me."

"Mom, I don't really want to hear it," Laurie protested; she didn't like how Blake was looking. "Especially if he doesn't want to say."

"Fine," said Sally. "I'll say it for you, if you can't be a man and own up to the fact that you tried to rape me."

"What?" Laurie thought for sure she had heard that wrong.

"A long time ago, in a far away land," said Sally, sarcastically, "Your father brutally assaulted me, Laurie. He would have finished it had Hooded Justice not been there to intervene."

"Why are you telling me this?" Laurie asked, feeling sick.

"It's for your own good," said her mother. "You deserve to know, Laurie."

"So I'll go back to living with you, Mom?"

Sally looked surprised.

"But don't you want--"

"I don't know what I want, Mother," said Laurie, getting angry. "But I know I didn't want to hear things like that. I can't believe you would tell me this."

"It's the truth," said her mother, avoiding her eyes. Laurie looked at Blake, who no longer seemed to be present. His eyes were blank.

"Is that how I was born?" asked Laurie, feeling her stomach lurch at the thought.

Laurie had still been looking at Blake, whose own eyes flickered as they looked into hers. His head only moved slightly, but he was shaking his head at her. Her mother took longer to respond.

"No," said Sally, finally.

"So this happened after I was born?"

"No."

"Then why am I here?"

"It's complicated, Laurie."

"Exactly. It's complicated. It's not cut and dry like you were trying to present it to me, Mother."

"It's still the truth, Laurie."

"And he's my father -- that's the truth too."

"Darling, come home, _please_."

"I already have a home," said Laurie. She looked at Blake, but he wasn't saying anything.

"Laurie, if you go back with him--"

"Then what? You won't talk to me again?" Laurie shouted. "You'll get drunk and throw a tantrum until I make you do what you want me to do?"

"Laurie--"

"No, Mother, I'm sick of this. You need help, and I don't want to be dragged around in this mess. It's not fair to make me have to choose between you two."

Laurie looked down, vision swimming in front of her because of her tears. Sally and Blake were silent.

"I wish," said Laurie, finally, "that I could have both parents and be normal. No fighting -- something happy and nice, like a real family."

Sally had tears in her eyes now.

"Oh, Laurie," she said, reaching out as if to hold her.

"I'm going for a walk," Laurie told them. "I'm... I'm just..."

Laurie turned and left. She heard her mother call her name, but she didn't look back. She just wanted to get away. Bitterly she thought how much like Rorschach she was, running away from her problems. But this was too much. She wasn't sure where she was going exactly, but after a while she realized what she was doing. Determined now that she knew, she knocked on Hollis Mason's door with purpose.

Hollis opened the door a few moments later. The smile on his face widened when he saw Laurie.

"Laurie," he said, in a voice full of good cheer. "What a surprise. Why don't you come in?"

Laurie practically shoved past him to go inside. Then she saw Dan and flipped.

"Why are you here?" she asked him, fiercely.

"Uh," said Dan, looking bewildered.

"You're everywhere I turn, here and there, everywhere -- I just can't get rid of you! I can't believe it!" Laurie shouted.

"I'm sorry," said Dan, as he adjusted his glasses.

"Stop apologizing! Do something useful for once instead of just saying sorry for all the things you fail at!"

Dan and Laurie stared at each other. They looked up and saw Hollis standing in the doorway with his mouth open.

"God, I'm sorry," sighed Laurie, putting her face in her hands. "I just want to talk to Hollis -- alone."

"Ah, okay," said Dan, scrambling to get up. "I'll leave."

"Fair enough," said Hollis, not taking his eyes off of Laurie. "I'll see you later, my boy."

"Bye Hollis."

The door closed behind them and the room went silent as Hollis waited for Laurie to explain herself. Now she felt ashamed for her behavior but Dan was already gone.

"Hollis," Laurie said, finally, "what do you know about the Comedian's attempted rape on my mother?"

Hollis swallowed hard, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Wow, Laurie," he said, raking a hand through his hair. "You finally read my book, huh?"

"It's in your book?"

"Well, yes...wait, did Sally tell you?"

"Yes." Laurie folded her arms.

"Shouldn't this be something Sally should be explaining to you then, not me?"

"It was very one-sided on her part."

"Laurie," said Hollis, looking shocked. "I can't imagine how it could be any other way, considering what had been done to her."

Laurie felt awful, that disgusting feeling rising up to her throat and for a moment she wondered if she was going to be sick all over Hollis' living room rug.

"I just want to understand," said Laurie, trying not to cry. "I want to know how and why it happened."

Hollis looked thoughtful and a little worried.

"Well Laurie, I don't know what to tell you," he said finally, palms spread out to her. "I wasn't there."

"But you wrote about it, didn't you? You're friends with my mother; didn't she tell you?"

"We never really talked about it. It was the sort of thing -- well, Laurence, your father--"

"He's not my father," Laurie told him coldly.

Hollis seemed about to protest, but then he took a closer look at her and nodded.

"All right," he said, in that calm tone of voice he used. "Back then we worried about our image. Anything like that getting out would be bad PR, according to Laurence. We just sweeped it under the rug, much like we did with many other... issues we had with each other."

"And my mother? Did she ever talk to m...the Comedian again?"

"Why no," said Hollis, blinking. "Why would she?"

"Why indeed," said Laurie. She felt angry again and this time she wasn't entirely sure why. But she knew she got what she wanted. "Thank you, Hollis."

"Oh, you're welcome, Laurie," said Hollis. "You all right? W--"

"I'm okay." Laurie smiled. "I'll visit later, I promise. And I won't be so fierce with Dan next time."

Hollis laughed a little, though he showed sadness through his eyes.

"All right then," he said. "You take care of yourself."

Laurie left, feeling a little crazy. She thought it was too bad that she didn't know where Rorschach lived, because she would storm his place too, and give him a piece of her mind. Of course, not knowing where he lived was a big part of why she was giving him her mind to begin with. Laurie made her way back into town and passing by the dress shop she looked inside. She glared at the owner, who gave her a reproachful glance as he moved away from the window. She didn't see Walter. She boldly walked in and up to the owner, whose name she didn't recall.

"Where's Walter?" she asked him in a demanding tone that seemed to surprise the older man.

"Err -- I think he went to pick up supplies," he told her. "Rebecca?"

A woman turned to regard Laurie then the man who was presumably her boss.

"Yes, Mr. Greer?"

Oh right, Mr. Greer. How could she forget? Laurie had thought of the words "Green Leer" to help her remember. It was coming back to her now.

"Where's Walter? This young lady is looking for him."

"Really?" Rebecca peered at Laurie with interest. "I think he's down in the fabric district picking up our supply orders."

Laurie pulled out a piece of paper and started to write as Mr. Greer watched her.

"There you have it," said Mr. Greer. "Say, aren't you Sally's girl? I haven't seen you in a while. You're looking quite pretty aren't you?"

"Thank you," said Laurie. "Could you please give this to Walter?"

She held up the piece of paper on which she had written her name and number. Mr. Greer eyed it, then looked at Rebecca, who took it quickly.

"Will do," she said. They were both looking at her curiously now.

"Thanks," said Laurie. She left the shop feeling a little better, but still in a foul mood.

Laurie spent the next few hours revisiting her old haunts on her nights out with Rorschach. In the daylight the alleys and streets looked harmless. Feeling hungry and sad, she returned home. The home she had with her father.

Blake came to investigate as she opened and shut the door behind her. He seemed genuinely taken aback to see her.

"Hi Dad," said Laurie, giving him a level look. "I'm sorry I left you with Mom like that."

"Well, that's okay," he said. He smiled a little and looked as tired as she felt.

Laurie paused only for a moment. She didn't want to have this conversation, but she felt as if she wouldn't be able to find the courage to ask the right questions if she hesitated now.

"I know this is a terrible thing to have to bring up again," said Laurie, "but why did you do it?"

"I--," started Blake, but then he swallowed and looked around before trying once more. "I was really angry. At the time, it-- it's not something I like to... Well, damn, I was fifteen. And out of control."

Laurie frowned and said nothing.

"You know what?" sighed Blake, weariness growing in his eyes. "I don't even remember why I did it anymore. That was thirty years ago. How do you ask a man about his motivations as a kid?"

Laurie looked at him and he approached her, placing his hands on her shoulders and gazing at her with eyes that were shimmering.

"I don't think I can explain why I did it," he told her. "But I'm sorry, Laurie. I really am."

Laurie smiled up at her father.

"You don't have to apologize to me," she told him. "But maybe Mom?"

Blake nodded and straightened up.

"Yeah, I guess... I guess the subject never came up between us, isn't that the strangest thing? We never talked for the longest time, and then she showed up and she acted as if nothing had ever happened. We never talked about it. I always just assumed she had forgiven me, somehow."

"It's okay, Dad," said Laurie, hugging him. She had to stretch around his back and even then couldn't put her arms completely around him. "I love you."

"Oh," said Blake, hugging her back. Laurie couldn't breathe for a moment, but she didn't mind. "You're such a precious thing, you know that? I love you too."

Laurie couldn't help but smile as he awkwardly kissed her forehead. She pulled back and looked up at him and saw that he had been crying. That was okay, because she was crying too.

"Why don't we eat?" asked Blake, smiling and smoothing back her hair. Laurie laughed.

"Why not," she said, feeling relieved. "And I'll talk to Mom later. I don't like the idea of her being alone and upset like she was."

"Yeah," Blake nodded. "I'll talk to her too. If she wants to talk to me, that is."

"I'm sure she does. Why else would she show up like that in the street and scream at you?"

"Oh, I dunno -- because you're such a good daughter, and she's sore I have you with me?"

Laurie laughed at that, but beamed at her father nonetheless. They were walking to the kitchen when there was a smart knock at the door. Laurie's heart lurched as she stared at her dad. Either it was her mother and they were in for another row, or it was Rorschach, and she wasn't emotionally ready for him right now. In any case, Laurie was too afraid to look. She was glad when Blake moved for the door and opened it.

"Uh, hi," said Blake, to whoever was on the other side. Laurie couldn't see who it was because he was blocking the door, but it didn't seem like it could be either her mother or Rorschach by the tone of voice he used.

"I'm sorry," said a familiar voice. "I was told I would be able to find, err, Miss Laurie here."

Laurie had to come to the door because she couldn't believe her ears. Staring at who was in front of her, she couldn't believe her eyes either. It was Ozymandias.

"How the hell did you know I lived here?" asked Laurie, and for a moment she thought she was going to lose it. The only person she could think of who could have told him was Rorschach, and she couldn't believe the audacity if this were true.

"I'm sorry," said Ozymandias, cringing from her. "I went to your mother's residence -- I remembered you from when you came in the Silk Spectre costume way back when. She told me you lived here."

"Oh," said Laurie. Anger abated for a moment, she felt guilty for blaming Rorschach so easily. "Yes?"

Ozymandias looked uncomfortable. He glanced uneasily at Blake, who was rooted to the doorway. Then he looked at Laurie.

"I was hoping that you could tell me where Rorschach lived, or if you have his contact information, somehow."

"Why would I have any of that?" asked Laurie. "You think I'm his keeper?"

"Well, no, I just thought--"

"I don't know anything about him; you think it's hard working with him now? Well, it's going to be like this years down the line, let me tell you -- I don't even know his name, so don't even assume I know anything else!"

"All right," said Ozymandias. For a moment his face looked flushed before the color died down to his normally pale complexion again. "I apologize for the intrusion."

"No problem son, she just had a long day," said Blake, giving Ozymandias a square look.

"Yes, of course." Ozymandias kept looking from Blake to Laurie until he seemed to come to a conclusion in his head. Suddenly he smiled. "Thank you and good night."

Ozymandias started to leave, then he turned and looked at Laurie.

"Are you going to fight crime anytime soon?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she told him with a glare.

"Ah, well," he said, looking down for a moment. "I don't mean to pry, but..."

Silence. Ozymandias cleared his throat after a moment.

"Actually, it's none of my business," he said. He smiled at them again. "Good night."

"Good night," said Blake, closing the door behind him. He turned and looked at Laurie with a look of pure disbelief. "Can you believe the cheek of your mother? Has she lost her mind telling people like that where to find you?"

"Passive aggressive," said Laurie bitterly. She was partly angry with her mother, but she was also too concerned about trying to figure out what Ozymandias had been trying to tell her.

"More like aggressive aggressive," said Blake, laughing.

"I think I'm just going to go to bed," said Laurie. She felt very unhappy, and her stomach ache was back again.

"Well all right," said Blake, voice softening with concern. "Good night, Laurie."

"Good night, Dad."

Laurie could feel her father watching her as she went into her room. She cried for a long while before she finally fell asleep.

-----

To be continued...

-----

Author's note: Thanks go out again to Vaudeville for steering me in the right direction. She really helped me narrow down my options so I could focus on what was important in the story. :)


	24. Chapter 24

Ch. 24

Rorschach hadn't spoken to Nightshade in two weeks and three days.

Pausing for a moment, Rorschach wondered where he had counted that many days in his head before. No, it had been the other way around -- three weeks and two days -- that other time. But what had he done for three weeks and two days before that rang out so strongly in his mind?

It didn't matter -- whatever it was, had nothing to do with Nightshade, and nowadays that was all that he could wrap his mind around. He missed her sorely, and at this point in time it just hurt to think about her. He had become obsessed with the thought of her, and at night he couldn't release his hold on her even then, as he dreamed about her constantly.

God knows, he watched her. He would check on her to make sure she was all right. He would also watch her because he couldn't bear the agony of not being near her. Was all he knew how to do anymore. He really was pathetic.

Rorschach reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and looked at it. He still didn't know what to think of it -- that simple paper with her name, her number, which he already knew, of course, but it was the gesture that was important. Why had she given him, Walter, her number? Was she telling him that she knew, somehow? Did she know, but was merely waiting for him to tell her? If that was the case, why didn't she just tell him? It would make things much easier.

Damn, did she not realize how difficult this was for him? Two sides of him, battling constantly. His will to fit in and find peace and a sense of belonging. His stronger will stifling all desires but the one to punish wrong and protect the innocent. Many times Walter would feel like he was drowning in his own thoughts, keeping him up at night, giving him nightmares. He just wished she would reach out, pull him out of this place. Anything she wanted to do, he would do it. Get away from this city? He would. Shape up and have a better life? Of course. Take off this mask and say hell to it all? Gladly, at this point. Get married?

Rorschach laughed at that.

No, he had been obsessed with many things before, but a woman had never been one of them. Not like this, anyway. These days he just didn't find the point in crime fighting anymore. No, that wasn't quite right. It made sense to him from a logical standpoint, yes -- the city needed him, people like him -- but to put it bluntly, he didn't find the joy in it anymore.

But that was pretty ridiculous. When did he ever find joy in crime fighting? It wasn't something he had ever enjoyed doing -- it was just something that had to be done. A duty, a service. Some men understood that. The Comedian did. Dr. Manhattan. His personal wants had nothing to do with this. At some point in time, however, Nightshade had brought something else into the job that had become his focus for the past couple of years. With her gone, he couldn't remember what he had been so intent on accomplishing. He recalled being adamantly against finding Underboss, but that was pretty embarrassing to think about. Why had he thought it was for the best to leave Underboss be? He couldn't remember anymore. Why was that?

Rorschach tried to keep from panicking again -- that was another one of his favorite things to do now. He honestly could not figure out what was the matter with him. Something was very wrong, and it was screaming at him from inside his head, inside his heart, even, strangely enough. Even so, he couldn't determine what the issue was. All he knew for sure was that he needed Nightshade back with him. They had to be a team again, otherwise he would lose everything, he realized. He had tried tagging along with Ozymandias for a while, but Ozymandias was just as bad as he was. He was an emotional mess, as hyper logical and cold as the man was, and Rorschach knew for a certain that he had been lying at least on some part about Nite Owl II. What a pair the two of them made -- Rorschach actually had to laugh when he got home the other day after spending all night trailing Agent Orange (a name the press came up with for the murderer -- was this a joke?), he and Ozymandias realized that they had been going down the same block in circles. They hadn't even been talking or anything. They had just been so focused on their thoughts and carrying on that they hadn't been paying attention to where they were taking themselves. Oh, Big Figure would laugh if he had had to deal with this Rorschach and not the other one. The other Rorschach had been superior. He had no weaknesses and he made a good team with Nightshade. This was why he wanted her back -- he wanted the better Rorschach that came with her. When he put on his mask he felt ridiculous now, as if he was wearing someone else's clothes and trying desperately hard to pretend to be someone he wasn't.

Yes, he was just Walter Kovacs, wasn't he? He had always been of a fanciful nature. At some point or another he had led himself into believing that he could be as good as Rorschach, as strong and perceptive and efficient as Rorschach. Now he had gone and ruined Rorschach on top of everything else. Rorschach was a deflated mess now, a laughing stock, just a man wearing the mask that would be better suited for someone with far less flaws.

Rorschach groaned to himself, wanting to just claw at his hair, his face. He wanted to weep, not just a few tears but to just let everything bleed out from him so he wouldn't feel this way. So pathetic. The old Rorschach would laugh. No wonder he left too.

Rorschach reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper again. He looked down at it as if he didn't understand what was written on it. He gazed down across the street to Blake's house, looking inside the window. Yes, he was sitting on the roof of a neighboring home looking for a glimpse of the girl he liked. Yes, he was creep. But he wouldn't be able to handle himself otherwise. Besides, he wasn't doing anything inappropriate, such as looking in her bedroom window. He had a clear view of the living room from where he was, and he could see Blake reading the newspaper as he was usually known to do. Laurie was there, sitting by the window and staring out into the street, but she wasn't looking at where she would see him. He imagined it was easier to see in than out, anyhow. He was a little disappointed at the thought. Some part of him wished she _could_ spot him. She had reverted to her old ways in the last two weeks she hadn't been out fighting. She'd gone soft. How small and vulnerable she looked there by the window now.

He wished he could protect her, to shield her from the ills of the world, to take her and hold her when she was in need of comfort. He wished he could be there for her, be a better man for her, provide for her and cherish and respect her. He wished for other things also, but he quickly tossed those thoughts aside.

Rorschach climbed down from the roof. He hovered around the Blake home for a few moments before leaving. Every night he would deliberate, wondering if he should go in and see her, but every night he left as he did now. Maybe tomorrow would be a better night. Rorschach went home and put up his jacket, suit, gloves, scarf, and mask. He shivered slightly in the cool air. Without all the layers it seemed so cold. Or maybe it was his empty apartment. Walter sat on the edge of his bed, looking towards the floor but not really seeing the room. He settled onto his back on top of the covers, hands clasped over his abdomen. His eyes closed for a moment and he started to drift into sleep but he jolted awake, his own stressed body unable to cope with relaxation. Walter rolled over onto his side and glared at the empty space next to him. The sheets were cool underneath his cheek, and he shivered again. He climbed under the covers and settled down once more. Between the sheets he felt even colder. Walter felt miserable. He tried closing his eyes. Couldn't sleep. Briefly he considered going back to Blake's, climbing in the window and into Laurie's bed. Nothing indecent -- just to be warm and sleep. He laughed at that idea.

Walter got up and walked to the window looking out into the street. It was too late to be awake, too early for morning, and he never felt like staying out too much anymore.

Walter sighed and retrieved a chair and set it next to the window. He sat down and looked out for a long while and was surprised to wake up in the morning feeling stiff and sore from having slept while sitting. He groaned as he stood up, twisting his neck about and felt satisfied to hear a crack. He got dressed and went to work. He almost stopped at Blake's house again. No, he wouldn't do that today. He was Walter, and Walter was going to work. He would go to work and busy himself with women's clothing; mending, measuring, cutting, oh joyous day of days.

"So," said Rebecca, when Mr. Greer was out of earshot. "How come your girlfriend doesn't stop by so much?"

Walter looked up and realized that Greer's assistant was talking to him.

"What's her name... Laurie?" she smiled at him. He was pretty certain this was the first time she had smiled at him, let alone attempted a conversation with him. "She seems nice."

"She is," said Walter, nodding to her politely. "Very nice."

Walter was depressed. Even in a place such as this he couldn't escape thoughts of her. Rebecca smiled at him again as she left to attend to a customer that had just come in. Mr. Greer walked by and nodded at him. Why were they so warm to him now? They had been like that ever since that day when he came back from an errand to find that Laurie had left a note for him. Walter reached for his pocket before realizing that her note was in his jacket. Of course. Despondent, he went back to work. Walter returned late that afternoon and had dinner. Then he put on his costume and ventured out into the evening.

Rorschach didn't have much to accomplish in his mind, but he was determined to get something done tonight. Maybe a bank robbery would make him feel less useless. Foiling one that is, not perpetrating one. He laughed to himself and wished Nightshade was there to hear that joke.

Rorschach stopped walking. He really missed her.

Rorschach turned and started walking in the opposite direction from where he had been headed. He reached Blake's place in only a few minutes. He paused only once before he walked up to the door and knocked on it. He was a little startled when Blake answered.

"Well well well," said Blake, smiling down at him. "Look who's no longer fourteen and ready to put on his man shoes."

"Pardon?" asked Rorschach, taken aback.

"Inside, now," Blake nodded, grabbing him by the arm and practically ripping it out of his shoulder in an effort to drag him inside.

"Where's--"

"In the shower. I'm glad you turned up when you did, kid," said Blake, gesturing to the living room. "Sit down."

Rorschach cringed into the armchair. He watched Blake as he closed the door and locked it before taking what seemed like forever to make his way into the living room.

"So," said Blake, sitting down on his usual spot on the couch. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, in your life. How's life treatin' ya?"

Rorschach briefly wondered if Blake was drunk. No, he seemed pretty jolly, actually. Drugs, then. No, that didn't seem right, either. He was acting most peculiarly, however.

"That exciting, huh?" asked Blake. "Wow, must be real busy since I haven't seen you around since... I dunno, September of 1910?"

"I wasn't born then," Rorschach told him.

"Right, I forgot. I wasn't either, actually." He laughed.

Silence. Rorschach wished Blake would get to the point. He just stared at Rorschach for what seemed like hours. Laurie finally emerged from her room, dressed and toweling her hair off. Her face lit up when she saw him.

"Rorschach," she exclaimed, rushing over. "It's great to see you."

"Laurie," said Rorschach, nodding to her. She looked at him and then at her father.

"What's going on?" she asked Blake.

"Oh, nothing," he answered. "Just holding him for you -- you can have him back."

Rorschach bristled. Did he think that he was just going to run off? It wasn't as if he had done something like that before. Well, he had, but... well, fine. But he hadn't been intending to leave just then and it felt insulting.

"Do you want to go to my room?" Laurie asked him.

"No," said Rorschach, so quickly that even Blake raised his eyebrow at that.

Rorschach made no move to explain himself, so Laurie finally nodded.

"All right -- the kitchen then." she said, leading him there.

Laurie walked to the sink and got herself a glass of water. She turned to face him as she drank it. She was wearing shorts and a loose-fitting shirt, but he could see all the parts that gave her curves and her legs seemed to stretch on forever. He felt uncomfortable.

Rorschach cleared his throat. Laurie looked at him and smiled. She seemed expectant, somehow.

"Thought I might persuade you to go out tonight," he told her. His hands were in his pockets.

"You mean crime fighting?" she sighed. "I don't know, I was going to call it an early night."

"All right," he said; removing his hands, he started moving towards the door.

"Wait, Rorschach, is that it?"

Rorschach turned to her, surprised.

"Yes," he told her.

"That's all you came here for -- to ask me to go with you? To go crime fighting?

"Yes."

Laurie gave him a wounded look as she calmly set down her glass and folded her arms.

"You don't have anything else to say to me?" she asked him.

Of course he had something to say -- he had everything to say, in fact, but he couldn't find the strength to say it.

"Wow," said Laurie, after she had waited a sufficient amount of time for him to respond. "Rorschach, are we even friends anymore?"

"Yes," he said, astonished. Why would he have visited her otherwise?

"Are you going to say anything besides yes?"

"Yes," he joked. She didn't seem amused.

"Rorschach, I haven't seen you in two weeks." Laurie looked away for a moment and bit her lip. "Do you know how bad I felt? I mean, considering the way we left things when you ran off that day, I thought I had done something wrong."

No, of course she hadn't. He had committed wrong by leaving that day, he knew that now.

"Nothing," Laurie sighed. "Not even a yes?"

"I'm sorry," he said, in a low voice. "I shouldn't have left."

Laurie's face softened, but it also made her look tremendously sad.

"I care about you a good deal, you know that?" she told him with a slight tremor in her voice.

He cared about her too. She had no idea.

Rorschach could only nod. Laurie made a small gasping noise and turned away. Her hands were on her mouth and her shoulders were shaking. Rorschach paused for a long moment, not sure what to do. He was sure she was crying, but he didn't know how to comfort her. He thought of something to say, but words were just not with him that day. Finally he approached her and put a hand on her shoulder, marveling at how delicate it was. She reached up to touch his hand, her fingers sliding up his glove and to the exposed flesh of his wrist. Her fingers were soft and also damp from tears. Heart breaking, he reached around to put his arms around her. She quickly turned to face him and returned the hug.

"I'm sorry," he told her again, and kissed her ear through his mask. She nodded, chin on his shoulder. He could hear her struggling to breathe through her tears.

"It's okay," she said, sighing deeply.

They held each other for a long while, and Rorschach tried to concentrate on how she felt against him, how she smelled. If she hated him now and they had to part ways, at least he would have this memory for him to look back on.

"Rorschach," said Laurie, finally, as she pulled away. She wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to smile. "Are we good now?"

"Yes," said Rorschach quickly, though he wasn't entirely sure what she meant.

"All right," she said, nodding. She smiled at him again. "Do you want to stay here for a while?"

"Need to go crime fighting," he told her.

"Of course," said Laurie. She looked very tired. Rorschach was worried that he had offended her.

"Good night, Laurie," he said, as he started for the door.

"Good night, Rorschach," she sighed again and attempted another smile.

Rorschach tried not to look at her as he left. If he did, he would feel compelled to stay. He hoped that he hadn't damaged what was between them beyond repair in his seemingly abrupt departure. He had left something, however, and he was embarrassed to be there to witness when Laurie discovered it. He was hoping that all would be right once she saw; more than anything hoped that she would understand what he was trying to tell her.

On the kitchen floor of Blake's home, Rorschach had left Laurie's note behind.

-----

To be continued...


	25. Chapter 25

Ch. 25

Laurie walked into the kitchen and was greeted by the smell of eggs cooking.

"Hi Dad," she said, giving Blake an amused smile.

"Hey," he said, looking rather comical with a spatula in one hand and cigar in the other. "Want some eggs?"

"Why not?" shrugged Laurie, sitting down at the table.

Laurie looked at her hands, trying not to think too much about the night before. Rorschach had finally come to see her, but the reunion had been anti-climactic, to say the least. She was starting to have mixed feelings about her friend. She was sure that she liked him in more ways than one, but now she wondered about him and the way he seemed to be pushing her away. At the same time, though, he seemed to desperately want to draw her in. Was this what it was like to be strung along? She almost asked her dad, but she decided against it. Maybe later.

Blake set a plate down in front of her. It seemed that he had made accompaniments for the eggs this morning.

"Wow, is this a special occasion?" asked Laurie.

Blake shrugged, winked, and went to get the newspaper. Laurie started to eat, looking up at her dad as he came in with the paper open, face buried in it. She looked down and noticed a note on the table. She ignored it and resumed eating, but she stopped when she realized how familiar it looked.

Laurie picked up the piece of paper, turning it around in her fingers. Her name and number was written on it. She paused, not even chewing as she sat, frozen with her eyes fixed on the note. She looked on the back -- blank. She looked at the front again. Her name and number -- still there. Why on earth?

"Dad?" asked Laurie, swallowing nervously. "Dad?"

"Yes, yes?" asked Blake, looking at her.

"Did you write this note?"

Blake leaned over to look at it.

"No," he said, turning back to his paper. "I found it on the kitchen floor this morning -- thought it was yours, so I put it on the table."

Blake walked into the living room, paying no attention to the way his daughter was gawking at him. She thought he had a smile on his face. Laurie looked at the paper again. It was the same piece of paper she had given to the assistant at the dress-shop, she was sure of it. She knew she couldn't have somehow taken the note back by accident. Besides, it had been days since that...

Laurie cleared her throat and put her face in her hands. She looked at the note again afterwards.

Either Rorschach had come across the note and... had what, dropped it? No, he had meant for her to find it. Either Rorschach had gotten the note from Walter, or he _was _Walter. She was so certain that they were the same person that it took a while for her mind to wrap around the fact. Why hadn't see noticed it before? She had seen Rorschach's mouth, hadn't she? Why hadn't she recognized it?

Because -- who could make the connection? It was such an insane idea. Walter was Rorschach?

Laurie stood up suddenly. She went to the mirror and looked at herself, straightening her hair before she grabbed her purse and keys.

"I'm going outside," she told her dad. He nodded absent-mindedly as she rushed out the door.

Laurie's heart was racing by the time she got to the dress shop. She stopped half a block short of it and turned around and started to walk back from where she came from before she stopped herself. She held out her hands as if trying to calm her own jitters and turned again and walked back and into the small store. She saw the assistant, Rebecca, talking to an old woman in a flower hat. She saw Mr. Greer counting money into a till. Then she saw Walter, whose head was down in concentration as he threaded a needle. He looked up and his eyes flashed in recognition.

Laurie walked over to the counter, nervous. If Walter was Rorschach, after all, why did she feel this way? She had known him for a few years now. They both knew how the other worked. They knew how to talk to each other, and most of all, they were comfortable around each other. What changed the dynamics so much that seeing Rorschach out of costume made it so different? She had seen Dan out of his Nite Owl II outfit, and she didn't feel different about him at all. She hated him whether or not he was in costume.

Laurie hovered for a moment before she finally approached Walter. He had been watching her silently, and seemed to straighten a little when she came up to him. His eyes were warm with a hint of a smile that accompanied the one on his lips. Laurie looked at his mouth and confirmed that it was him. It seemed so obvious now.

"It is you, isn't it?" she asked him in a near whisper, as if somehow the others would hear and know what she was referring to.

"Yes," he said to her in a soft voice she barely recognized.

Laurie had to wipe tears from her eyes as she tried to step back and give Walter an assessing look. His head was slightly inclined in an almost submissive gesture that made him look endearing. Laurie couldn't help but rush around and behind the counter to hug him. His hands clasped her shoulder blades as if he didn't know what to do with her.

Laurie heard a giggle and looked up to realize Rebecca and Mr. Greer were watching them. Embarrassed, she stepped to the correct side of the counter again.

"I'm sorry," she said to Walter.

"It's all right," he said to her. The light freckles on his face vanished as he blushed furiously. Laurie gave him an adoring look.

"When do you get off of work?" she asked him. "Or leave the shop?"

"I need to deliver some garments later this afternoon."

"I'll go with you."

Walter smiled.

"It's not until two."

"Then I'll wait."

His smile was even wider now.

"All right," he said, in a clipped tone. "You do that."

"Don't pretend I'm ridiculous -- you like it."

Walter looked directly at her then.

"Yes," he told her.

Laurie left the shop and returned after what seemed like forever. She had impatiently patrolled the block a few thousand times while waiting for the hours to go by. She came back to find Walter waiting for her. He had a garment cart with him. They set out down the street, silent as he wheeled the cart along while she followed him.

"Walter, how come you never told me before?" she asked him after a while.

"Don't know," he said to her.

Laurie knew better than to interject, so she waited patiently for him to come around. She had just about given up before he finally spoke again.

'It's hard to explain," he told her, finally.

Laurie looked at Walter, who was gazing at her sideways. His eyes looked very blue in the sun, and his hair very red. Laurie smiled at him, and was pleased when he shyly smiled back. She came closer to take his arm, and he drew in a breath as if she had done so much more. His eyes lowered to look at their locked arms before he raised them again to look at her. She noticed how his gaze lingered on her mouth and wanted to kiss him.

Laurie looked around. They were in the middle of the street. She didn't mind, but she didn't want to alarm Walter. They continued to walk until Walter moved his arm to exchange it with her hand in his. His hand was warm and he ran his thumb across the back of her hand in a familiar gesture that made her shiver this time. They stopped walking and gazed at each other for a long moment.

"Delivery," said Walter, snapping himself out of his trance and blushing again.

They made their way across the city and into the fabric district. Laurie politely waited outside as Walter dropped off the fabric cart and came out wiping his hands. He paused to look at her with an impish smile.

"What?" she asked him, playfully.

"Nothing," he said, though he seemed quite amused now. He took her hand with more authority this time, and she liked it. Laurie bumped him with her hip, and they laughed a little.

"Are you going out tonight?" he asked her in a strangely teasing tone that made her raise her eyebrow at him.

"Well, if you ask me like _that_," she told him, marveling at how surreal this all was.

"Good."

"So what are we going after tonight? More of Ozymandias' Agent Orange murders?"

"No -- Underboss."

"Oh." Laurie was surprised. After all this time, she had completely forgotten about Underboss.

"You sound disappointed."

"Well, I didn't remember he existed."

"Me too."

Walter smiled at her again. He leaned closer as if to kiss her, but he didn't. They crossed the street, and he looked both sides, but then in other directions as well. Laurie realized he was searching to see if there were people around.

"Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?" she asked him.

"No," he said. Then he gave her a quick kiss as if in apology. Laurie was surprised.

They walked in silence for a moment.

"Have you ever read Hollis Mason's book, Walter?" asked Laurie, suddenly.

"Yes," he said, nodding.

"Did you read about my parents? Well, I mean the--..."

"Yes." He gave her a sad look.

"You never told me," she said, voice quiet.

"Thought you shouldn't know."

"I guess I would rather I hadn't known. My mother made a point to tell me, though -- in the street no less, in front of my father."

Walter winced a little but said nothing. His grip on her hand tightened briefly.

"I'd been wondering if I was being disrespectful to my mother for going back to my dad. I know he's done bad things -- does bad things to people sometimes, even. But he's only been good to me, and he's also the only dad I have. He wasn't in my life up until recently, and he's important to me. I feel like if I give in and go back to my mother we won't have a proper relationship and I'll lose my dad again, you know?"

Walter looked at her and in his eyes conveyed a whole mix of emotions -- pain, sadness, longing, and even intrigue. Laurie paused for a moment to watch him, fascinated. They continued on without another word.

"So, are you ever going to show me where you live, Walter?" Laurie asked after a while.

"No," he said, in that curt manner he always did, but he looked at her and his eyes were smiling. Laurie marveled at how different their conversations were when she could see the subtleties of his facial expressions. He was quite emotive.

"Why not?" she asked, giving him a coy look. He looked taken back and faltered.

"Nothing for you to see," he told her. He seemed to look almost reproachful.

"I think I should know where I'm going to be living eventually," she joked. Walter gave her such a shocked expression that she sorely regretted opening her mouth until he kissed her with such force she staggered a little when he pulled away.

Laurie gaped at Walter, astonished. He was looking elsewhere and pretending that nothing had happened. A small smile played on his lips, however. Laurie looked down and blushed.

"I need to go back to work," Walter told her. She was surprised to find that they had arrived back at the dress shop. She looked around at the crowds of people walking past and briefly wondered if they had kissed in view of all of them. She turned to Walter and wanted to ask but couldn't find a way to formulate her question. She nodded instead.

"I'll see you tonight," she told him. She hesitated for a moment, but decided to lean in to hug him. He sank into her embrace. Laurie ran her hand over his head afterwards. She had lost the ability to say anything else, and it seemed he had too.

Laurie watched Walter as he briskly walked back to work. He turned and waved at her before he went inside. Laurie waved to him even after he had vanished from sight.

-----

To be continued...


	26. Chapter 26

Ch. 26

Looking at himself, Rorschach almost felt embarrassed. The costume fit awkwardly on him now -- at least, that's how it seemed to him. And that's what it was, wasn't it? A costume? He shook his head and hoped that he would feel more like himself when he was fighting with Nightshade again. Once she was in costume also, he would feel less compelled to engage himself in inappropriate public displays in the street like he had earlier.

Rorschach shook his head. Thinking about it afterwards, it astonished him to think he had done the things he did... In front of people, no less! He briefly wanted to turn to passersby and tell them that he had no ill intentions towards the girl -- he was serious and wasn't playing with her heart to break it. Then again, he also wanted to ask them why they cared now all of a sudden. People used to avoid looking at him, but he saw their eyes going towards him at times now. Not just when he was with Laurie, either. Suddenly, he was visible in the crowd, and he really didn't know how to explain it, let alone respond to it.

Rorschach brushed at his jacket sleeves, straightened his scarf, then made his way to Blake's residence. He knocked on the door, and Laurie answered.

"Oh, hi," she said, smiling at him as she stepped aside to let him in. "I didn't expect you so early. I was about to eat dinner, actually."

Rorschach shrugged at her and she motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen.

"Here, sit down," she told him. "Are you hungry? Why don't you join me?"

She was already setting a plate down for him before he had a chance to reply. She seemed to have made enough for him to eat too. If she wasn't expecting him, how did she manage to do that?

Laurie sat down with her own plate of food, and Rorschach lifted his mask slightly and left it as it was. Laurie set down her fork and gave him an exasperated look.

"Rorschach, seriously?" she asked him.

Rorschach looked behind him and then at her and shrugged.

"He's not here," she said, "I think he went to talk to Mom or something."

Rorschach pointed at the time then at the door.

"I don't think he's coming home anytime soon. And if he does -- you can put it back on. Come on, can you really see in that thing?"

Rorschach nodded, but he took off the mask.

"That's better," smiled Laurie. Then she leaned in closer. "Have you lost your tongue?"

"No," he said, a little sullen.

They started eating, silence between them. Afterwards, Laurie excused herself to change. Now that the house was pretty much empty, Rorschach had time to look around. He briefly gazed out the kitchen window into the backyard. He was a little surprised to find a garden there. He moved into the living room and studied the pictures on the mantelpiece. People that looked like possibly Blake's parents, a younger Blake, a picture of the Minutemen, and a picture of Sally Jupiter when she was younger. Rorschach recalled the picture Nite Owl II had taken of the Crimebusters and wondered what had happened to it.

Nightshade returned, and they went out without a word. Rorschach felt elated as they stepped out into the night. It was good to return to normal again. Well, as normal as they could possibly get, he supposed. He couldn't remember when Nightshade's costume looked so distracting. They ran their old routes to reacquaint themselves once more before making their way into shadier areas. Rorschach hadn't been keeping tabs on the Underboss, so they had to start with new material. One lead took them into an unfamiliar neighborhood. They were standing on the rooftop of a commercial building when they saw a familiar air ship approach them.

"Oh God, Dan," said Nightshade.

Rorschach said nothing. He just put his hands in his pockets as the ship hovered around them before the hatch on the underside opened and Nite Owl II jumped out.

"Wow guys," said Nite Owl II, "It's great to see you -- I hadn't seen you two in so long I thought you'd quit."

Rorschach almost told Nite Owl II that it was because they were avoiding him but he thought that was too cruel.

"Yeah, that's nice," said Nightshade. "I mean, no."

Nite Owl II gave Nightshade a flustered look and Nightshade herself looked confused.

"So," said Nite Owl II, as if nothing had happened, "What are you two working on tonight?"

"Underboss," said Nightshade. Then she flinched as she caught herself too late.

"Oh hey, me too!"

Nightshade turned and looked at Rorschach. He had to turn away so they wouldn't hear him laughing.

"Why don't we team up? We're looking for the same guy so we can compare notes and see what we've got." Nite Owl II was practically beaming at them.

"We don't have any notes, actually," Nightshade told him.

"That's all right. Come on -- why don't you guys come with me? I won't bite, haha."

Nite Owl II folded his arms and laughed awkwardly. So did Nightshade. Nite Owl II returned to his ship and landed it so they could board it. Rorschach looked inside, intrigued in spite of himself by the craftsmanship.

"Did you build this yourself?" he asked Nite Owl II.

"Yeah," said Nite Owl II. He began to explain to him the process of construction and mechanics of the ship.

"That's nice," said Rorschach, but he was certain that Nite Owl II hadn't heard him. It really was a nice ship, however. Ozymandias was right about Nite Owl II. He seemed to be an intelligent man, but he just had some problems with socialization, perhaps even his self-esteem. Rorschach snorted to himself. He wasn't in any position to judge, he supposed.

"I've been tracking the irregular shipments that have going in and out in these locations," said Nite Owl II, pulling up a mechanized bulletin.

"Wow," said Nightshade, who seemed impressed for once. She peered down at the flashing dots with interest.

"Of course, I haven't been able to figure out which ones are actually Underboss' and which ones are just your regular criminals."

"We probably need to get down there," said Nightshade. "I mean, that's what Rorschach and I usually do. You can't just find everything from up here."

"Great," said Nite Owl II. He was smiling and seemed to be oozing with optimism. "Tell us where we need to go and we can start tonight."

They spent the rest of the night doing hands-on work in the streets. They created a checklist based on what Nite Owl II had already gathered and used the trial and error method to narrow down half of their suspects.

"Well," said Nightshade, looking tired after hours of searching. "I think we should call it a night. We can work on the rest tomorrow."

"That sounds fine," said Nite Owl II. "Where do I meet you guys?"

Nightshade looked up at Rorschach. He shrugged at her and pointed at the ship. She nodded.

"How about the place where you found us?" she told him. "Just after sunset."

"Sounds great to me," Nite Owl II nodded. "Too bad Ozy can't join us -- I really had fun with you guys."

Nightshade smiled kindly at him. That irrational thread of jealousy tugged at Rorschach's sleeve, compelling him to punch Nite Owl II out. Rorschach ignored this feeling as much as he could, but he couldn't help but become sore in the process. Rorschach glared at Nite Owl II as he nodded and waved to them and finally let them be.

Rorschach and Nightshade stood where they were for a long moment before Nightshade finally stretched and looked at him.

"I really don't know what to think of that whole business with Dan," she laughed. "I mean, he can be a little annoying, but you can't help but like him because he's so enthusiastic and chipper about crime fighting."

"I suppose," grunted Rorschach.

"What's wrong? Don't you like Dan?"

"No."

"Oh." Nightshade frowned. "All right."

They walked to Blake's home together. Rorschach walked Nightshade up the front steps and started to leave when she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. Rorschach looked around for Blake, but he didn't seem to be there.

"Hmm," said Nightshade, frowning as she removed her mask. "Dad?"

No answer. She shrugged at him. Then she gave him a wicked smile. Rorschach backed away from her with his hands out. Laurie laughed.

"I'm not going to bite you silly," she told him.

"That's not what I'm afraid of," he told her quietly, but he wasn't sure if she heard him.

"Sit down," said Laurie, practically shoving him down on the couch. She sat down next to him and pulled off his mask as he looked at her, startled. She put her hands on his chest and started to kiss him. Walter couldn't think of anything else to do but respond in kind. They kissed until he couldn't breathe anymore and had to push her away from him.

Walter stared at Laurie in disbelief. He was shocked by her fervor, but couldn't help but share her excitement nonetheless. He let her lean in and kiss him again, and when she untied his scarf he didn't complain. She was kissing his throat now, and he enjoyed it, but he didn't like the way his heart was racing until his pulse seemed to spread down into his abdomen. Walter had to stop her.

"What's wrong?" she asked him. Her face was flushed and her eyes were bright. He wanted to kiss her again -- wanted her to kiss _him_ again, but he resisted the urge.

"Your father is going to come in," he told her. The thought mortified him in such a way that it chilled his whole body and made him ironically feel a little better.

"No he isn't," she said, kissing him again. Her teeth grazed his lip and he shivered.

"He will, and the first thing he'll see when he comes in that door is us being indecent."

"We're just kissing," she told him. "It's nothing too bad, is it?"

No, he supposed not. He let her climb onto his lap and kiss him with her hands resting on the sides of his face, thumbs on his cheeks and fingers under his chin. Walter put his hands on her hips -- just in case he had to pull her off of him, of course. Laurie made an intriguing sound as he leaned into her, and he shifted on the couch to push her down onto it. On top now, Walter tried not to bear too much of his weight on her as he slowly kissed her. He enjoyed the soft feel of her lips against his, and the way their mouths melded into the other's. Her fingers were in his hair now, and he shivered for a moment before continuing on to her face, then to her neck. He felt her thighs pressing into his sides and he thought he was going to pass out.

There was a creak as the house settled, but Walter felt his heart leap to his throat and pulled back very quickly. Laurie stared at him from where she was lying on the couch, a blush across her cheeks and chest. Had he unbuttoned those buttons on her top? He didn't remember, and it shocked him to think that he had done that. Walter closed his eyes briefly, feeling a little ashamed of his behavior.

"Are you okay?" Laurie asked him, sitting up. He could hear her breathing heavily. He was appalled when he instinctively leaned in to kiss her again. No, he mustn't.

Walter shuddered for a moment as he stood up. Colors swam in front of his eyes for a few seconds. Then he stooped down to pick up his scarf. He paused to retie his jacket, which had come undone in the process.

"I should go," he told Laurie, who jumped to her feet and grabbed his hands.

"No, stay, please," she said, looking at him with wide eyes. Walter stared at her as if she had gone insane. Laurie shook her head. "No, not like that. I mean, you know -- just sleep. Please, Walter."

Walter hesitated. He suddenly wasn't very sure of how to handle himself, and even simply sleeping in her bed seemed like a bad idea. He almost said no, but then he remembered the night before and how cold his bed had been. It hadn't been so great the night before that either. Well, ever, really. He recalled wanting more than anything to climb into bed with her. Walter really didn't know how to respond at this rate. After a moment, he let Laurie take his hand and lead him into her room. If he didn't like what he saw or what she did, he could leave at any moment, couldn't he?

"Wait here," said Laurie, leaving and coming back a few minutes later dressed for sleep. Walter glanced at her for a moment. He looked down as he took off his jacket, then his gloves, then his suit jacket, tie, and... he couldn't bear to take off any more than that. He placed the scarf on top of everything else and placed his garments neatly on the back of her desk chair. He turned and stared at her, embarrassed. Laurie was already in her bed, and it was so small he wondered if it could fit the both of them in it. She pulled the covers back on the other side of her and patted the sheets in a gesture for him to climb in. He politely obeyed and settled in uncertainly.

Laurie smiled and turned off the light on the bedside table. The room was bathed in darkness, and for a few seconds while it took Walter's eyes to adjust, he was afraid that Laurie had tricked him and she was going to do something awful and he wouldn't stop her. He couldn't decide which idea was more horrible -- that she would do something like that, or that he would allow it -- and lay in nervous uncertainty for a few minutes.

The moonlight was coming in through Laurie's window. Walter could hear Laurie breathing next to him, and he felt a little more relaxed, even when she rolled towards him and put her hand on his chest.

"Good night," said Laurie.

Walter didn't reply. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if this was really a good idea and whether or not he should get up and apologize and leave. The next thing he knew, he was on his side with his arm around Laurie, whose back was to him. Walter blinked in confusion for a moment. He looked around the room and the sunshine streaming in through the window, then at Laurie. She was breathing deeply next to him, still asleep. Walter lay back down and stayed as he was for a little while before he got up. He was fully dressed when Laurie woke.

"Oh," said Laurie, smiling as she rubbed her eyes. "Wow -- I thought you staying over was a dream."

Walter almost told her it had been. He still couldn't believe that he had fallen asleep so quickly and soundly. He felt his stomach lurch for a moment as he realized his mask and hat must still be in the living room. He practically ran out, looking in the hallways for Blake. The house was still. He made his way into the living room and found his mask on the arm of the couch. He picked it up.

"Don't look at me like that," he said to it, before putting it in his pocket. He found his hat and tucked it under his arm. He returned to Laurie's room and stood in the doorway as if he had never been in her room before this.

Laurie was sitting on the bed, and she smiled at him.

"Do you want breakfast?" she asked.

"No, I should go," he said, before he added, "Thank you."

"All right," said Laurie, nodding.

"Otherwise, I will be late for work," he explained.

Laurie smiled at him.

"All right," she said again, but she didn't seem as disappointed. "See you later?"

"Yes," nodded Walter. He stood awkwardly for a few seconds before going to the window. He realized Blake might be returning even at this very moment and he didn't want to run into him on his way out the door.

Walter climbed out the window and stood in the grass waving at Laurie. Then he thought better of it and came to the window again. Laurie walked to the window and leaned down to let him kiss her. Walter felt a little better. He gave Laurie a reassuring smile before he turned and walked through the backyard, hands in his pockets. He tried to stifle the skip in his step, but finally allowed it, this once.

-----

To be continued...


	27. Chapter 27

Ch. 27

Laurie came out of her room dressed for the day. Confused, she wondered where her father had gone. He was an early riser, and seeing as he wasn't around, she figured he mustn't have come back the night before. Or had he? Laurie went into the kitchen and was relieved to find a note there. She picked it up and read it.

"_Laurie,_

_Going away for a few days. In an emergency, call the number below, ask for me by name. Should go to your mother unless it's really bad though. She wants to talk to you by the way. Stay out of trouble._

_-Dad_"

A phone number followed the note. It was an out of state number, and Laurie wondered if he had gotten called to Washington, D.C. -- she knew her father worked for the government. Laurie set down the note and walked to the refrigerator. She started to pour herself a glass of orange juice before she stopped.

That note from her father hadn't been there when she and Rorschach left for their evening rounds, of course. How long had he stayed at her mother's house? Either he was already home when she and Rorschach returned after their duties, or he had come back late in the night. She hoped that he hadn't checked up on her. She remembered pulling Rorschach's mask off and tossing it in the living room. She wondered if he had seen that. Laurie cringed at the idea, pouring the untouched glass of juice back into the bottle. She looked into the mirror to check if her hair was all right, then went out to walk to her mother's house.

Laurie felt strange knocking at the door, but it seemed rude to just barge in. Sally answered, and she looked fresh-faced and pretty. Laurie realized she was actually sober this morning.

"Oh Laurie," said her mother, leaning forward to hug and then kiss her. "I was hoping you would stop by today."

"Really?"

"Yes -- didn't your father tell you I wanted to see you?"

"Well, yes," said Laurie. It was strange to hear her biological father being referred as such by her mother. Sally seemed to realize this also, and cleared her throat.

"Why don't you come in?" she asked her.

Laurie walked in, feeling awkward about her mother's formal tone.

"Did you have breakfast, dear?"

"No, Mom."

"Here, why don't you sit down?"

Laurie sat down and ate breakfast with her mother. It was strange after all the time they had spent apart. Laurie had to admit that she had missed interacting with her.

"So," said Sally, after a while. "Are you still going out with that boy you fight crime with?"

"Uh," Laurie almost choked on her food.

"We never got to have that dinner together... say, wouldn't it be wonderful if we could invite everyone over for a nice dinner? You and your friends, Nelly, Hollis..."

Laurie thought this was the worst idea she had ever heard, but she didn't say anything.

"It can be a week from now," said Sally. "That should be enough time to round up everyone, correct?"

"I suppose," said Laurie. "Hey Mom -- did Dad stay long yesterday?"

"He was here until around two in the morning, I believe," said Sally, looking at the clock.

Laurie tried to think back on when she and Rorschach had come home. It had to have been close to midnight. So that meant her dad had come home after they had gone to bed. Laurie was a little relieved, but that didn't mean she was completely off the hook. Is that what he had meant by 'stay out of trouble'? She cringed at the idea of him peeking in on her and seeing Walter in bed with her.

"What's wrong, Laurie? Your face is all red," Sally observed.

"Um, who are we inviting to the dinner?"

"Let's see... your boyfriend, of course, and your other friends. Hollis, Nelly, and I suppose Eddie would have to come too."

Laurie tried to picture her with her parents, Rorschach, Nite Owl II, Ozymandias, Nelly, and Hollis sitting around the table eating dinner. She almost suggested that her mother invite Laurence and really add the icing to this disastrous cake. Laurie listened as her mother thought out loud as she planned the upcoming dinner. Afterwards, Laurie excused herself.

"I guess I'll go uh, invite some people now," said Laurie.

"Will you do that, dear? I can call Nelly and Hollis. You can tell your fa... err, Eddie and the others."

"Bye."

"Bye dear. Don't get into any trouble, you hear?"

Laurie frowned as she left. How come her parents all of a sudden thought she was going to get into some kind of trouble? She was wondering how she was going to word her invitation to Walter when she saw a familiar figure waving from the distance and cringed.

"Hi, Dan," said Laurie, as he approached her.

"Heya Laurie," he said, smiling. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," she tried to smile back, but only managed to grimace. "And yourself?"

"Great, great -- was on my way to Hollis' actually. I hope you weren't planning on talking to him alone today."

Dan laughed and Laurie winced at the memory.

"Uh no, I'm sorry about all that," she said.

"Nah, it's all right. Where are you off to?"

"Just...just visiting a friend."

"Walter?"

"Yes." Laurie stopped and stared at him. How did he know? Then she remembered running into Walter while she was with Dan that one time. Laurie hadn't thought about that in a while. It was a really funny thing to think about now that she knew who Walter was.

"Why don't I walk with you? Just up to wherever you're meeting him," suggested Dan.

"No, it's--"

Dan was already walking. Laurie gave up and let him accompany her. Then she remembered he was Nite Owl II. How could she forget?

"Oh, Dan," said Laurie, "My mother wanted to have a dinner get together with the Crimebusters, and also Nelly, Hollis, and the Comedian."

"The Comedian?" Dan looked surprised. "Wow, I wouldn't have expected her to invite him."

"Yeah, well, if you can't come--"

"I'd love to."

"Oh. I'm sure she will be thrilled."

They walked in silence, and Laurie was a little surprised that Dan wasn't talking, for once. She wondered if it was his way of trying to connect with people. She looked at Dan, and he looked back and smiled at her. He really was just a nice young man. She felt bad for hating him so much.

They reached the dress shop, and Laurie waved at Walter through the window as she started to go in.

"Well, here it is," she told Dan. "I'll see you later."

"All right, Laurie," said Dan.

Laurie was halfway through the door when Dan peered over her shoulder and waved at Walter as well.

"Hey there, Walter!" he said, before waving at Laurie too and taking his leave. "Bye, Laurie."

"Uh, bye Dan," said Laurie, staring after him. She turned to see Walter making his way over to her. He didn't seem to be very happy.

"What are you doing with him?" he asked her in an icy voice.

"I saw him in the street and he insisted on walking me here," shrugged Laurie.

"Hrm." He gave her a look as if he didn't quite believe her.

"It's true -- you know how he is," said Laurie, folding her arms. Walter studied her for another moment before nodding his head.

"Yes."

"Well, it's good to see you too," Laurie said in a wounded tone, though she only half minded.

"I'm working," he told her.

"Fine," said Laurie, throwing up her hands. "I'll go back to spending my dull day with Dan then."

Walter glared at her.

"Not funny," he told her. Laurie frowned.

"Oh, come on, Walter," she said, stepping towards him. "What's wrong with Dan? He's annoying, but he's essentially harmless."

"No."

"No? Are you saying he's some kind of pervert?"

"No. Maybe."

Laurie gasped. Then she couldn't stop herself from laughing.

"I'm sorry Walter," she said, shaking her head. "But I can't imagine..."

Laurie looked behind Walter at Mr. Greer, who was watching them with interest.

"Ah, will you mind the store for me, boy?" asked Mr. Greer. "I need to step out for a moment and..."

He muttered the rest, and pushed past them. Walter didn't seem to be given a chance to respond. Laurie realized they were alone in the shop. She gave Walter a look.

"No," he said, and he returned to his counter and started to cut fabric. He was smiling a little, however.

Laurie glanced around the shop before making her way to the counter. She watched Walter, fascinated. He glanced up at her and smiled for a moment before returning to his work.

"Uh, so," said Laurie, "I didn't mean to come in and bother you Walter, but I just wanted to ask you something."

Walter set down his scissors and looked at her.

"No bother," he told her. His voice was warm again. Laurie smiled.

"My mother wanted to invite you to dinner. You remember when she did that way back when?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to come?"

"No."

Laurie frowned again.

"Everyone's going to be there, I think... She's inviting my dad, Hollis, Nelly..."

"No."

"Ozymandias and Nite Owl II..."

The sharp glint in Walter's eye appeared again.

"Is he going?" he asked her.

"Who? Ozymandias or Nite Owl II?"

Walter folded his arms at her.

"You know who," he said.

"Yes."

Walter grunted and started cutting fabric again.

"Does that mean you're going?" asked Laurie.

Walter nodded and didn't look at her.

"Are you going just because Dan is going?"

Walter nodded again. Laurie pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Walter..." she said, after a moment. "What do you have against Dan that would make you turn up to a dinner you hate just to spite him?"

Walter stopped and gazed at her with eyes that seemed to be practically laughing at her. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he went back to working again. Laurie looked at the doorway and contemplated leaving.

"Do I go like this?" Walter asked her. "Or as Rorschach?"

"Oh," said Laurie, surprised both by his question and by the fact that he would say yes to a dinner that might reveal his identity. It irked her a little that he would sacrifice his identity at a dinner with Dan, but had such a hard time telling even her. "I don't know -- I guess in costume... I know Dan wouldn't mind us all knowing, but I'm sure Ozymandias isn't about to come to a dinner dressed in plain clothes."

Walter nodded.

"I guess... I guess I better go then," said Laurie, fiddling with her hands.

Walter nodded again. He glanced at her, and for a brief moment his eyes were on her lips. Laurie smiled and leaned in to give him a lingering kiss. When she pulled back, his eyes were still closed. He opened them and smiled at her.

"You really are sweet Walter," Laurie told him. "Especially when you smile."

Walter's smile seemed to grow wider at that.

-----

To be continued...


	28. Chapter 28

Ch. 28

Rorschach couldn't say when he had ever felt this nervous. He had been on edge for most of the week. It wasn't Underboss or anything related to fighting crime or walking that dangerous line close to death in battle, either. He was worried about that blasted dinner.

He didn't want to go, of course, but he had to. He had to go if _Dan_ was going to be there. Walter had worn himself out worrying endlessly through the nights. It didn't help that he had been worrying about other things, as well. His future, for instance. Walter had finally given in a few days ago and told Mr. Greer of his desire to work in a better environment. He had meant that he was going to look for a job elsewhere, but his statement seemed to elicit a positive response from Mr. Greer.

"I actually have a colleague in the tailoring business," he had told Walter. "He's been looking to hire an assistant, you know. I'll put in a good word for you."

Walter had been stunned.

"Err, thank you," he managed to tell Mr. Greer, who pat his shoulder affectionately.

"Good to see a nice young man getting somewhere in life," he said, before adjusting his tape measure and attending to a customer. Walter thought that was a kind gesture, but expected nothing of it, as he wasn't professionally trained to work in this business, let alone as a tailor.

The next day, Walter was hired. Walter played along, imagining it to be in the similar line of work as he had been doing. He was pleased to find that the shop had only male clothing. He was shocked to find that it was a very high-end establishment that required that he wear a suit. Mr. Petersen, the tailor who owned the shop, was an older man than Mr. Greer. His blue eyes peered out of thick glasses, and his snowy white hair set off the dark clothing he would usually wear. Mr. Petersen himself didn't own a suit, he said. He told Walter he wanted a respectable looking young man in the shop to help lure the customers in. Walter thought he would drive the customers away more than anything, but he had no problems looking respectable. Mr. Petersen even fitted him for a suit and gave Walter materials to make it with.

So now, Walter was an assistant tailor in a shop that catered to the rich. It was a huge leap from where he had been working in just a few days before, and he still couldn't believe it. Thinking about it now, his heart fluttered for a moment before it sank again as he recalled his dinner obligation. It was tonight, and Rorschach really didn't want to go.

That's why he was standing on the sidewalk looking up at Sally Juspeczyk's home and wishing he were somewhere else. He heard someone approach and looked up. It was the Comedian. Well, Edward Blake.

"Hey kid," said Blake, laughing a little. "I guess you're looking forward to this thing as much as I am, huh?"

Rorschach nodded in an absent-minded manner. He wondered at Blake's meaning until he remembered how he had been kicked out of the Minutemen. He mustn't have interacted at all with the other members after that. Rorschach imagined how awkward that must be. He was surprised that Blake had shown up at all. He and Blake walked up the steps and Blake rang the doorbell. Hollis Mason answered the door.

"Blake," he said, nodding curtly at him.

"Hollis," said Blake, looking like he was grinding his teeth on something bitter.

"And you must be Rorschach," Hollis continued.

"Yes," said Rorschach, tentatively.

"Nite Owl II tells me all about his friends," he said.

Rorschach wanted to vomit. Instead he followed Blake inside. Blake started looking around, and Rorschach shoved himself in the corner and out of the way. There he stood and watched Hollis and Blake as they attempted at conversation until the doorbell rang. Closer to the door, Rorschach opened it but stayed behind it and out of sight. Ozymandias looked in, confused for a moment until he spotted Rorschach.

"Oh," he said, looking relieved. "I'm glad I'm not the only one in costume."

"Welcome," said Hollis. "Sally's in the kitchen with Laurie. She said dinner will be ready in ten more minutes."

Blake looked at Rorschach. They seemed to be thinking the same thing -- how come Hollis didn't tell _them_ that?

Ozymandias nodded politely and stood near Rorschach, looking a little nervous himself. Rorschach heard voices, then footsteps coming up the steps outside and opened the door again before whoever it was could knock.

"Nelly," exclaimed Hollis, "It's good to see you."

"Hollis," said Nelly, coming inside. He wasn't in costume, but Dan who was behind him, was.

"Hi," said Nite Owl II, first to Rorschach, then Ozymandias. The three Crimebusters huddled out of the way and watched the former Minutemen -- well, more like Hollis and Nelly -- catch up. Blake came to join the younger crime fighters. He shrugged at them.

Sally came in a few minutes later, and she put her hands up in surprise.

"Oh, Hollis, you didn't tell me everyone had arrived," she said, laughing. She hugged Nelson and kissed his cheeks. Then she turned to Blake expectantly. He waved at her.

"Hey, Sal," he said, in a weary tone.

"Hi Eddie," she nodded. "Introduce me to your friends."

"Uh, Laurie's friends, actually," he said. He turned to them anyway. "Nite Owl II, Ozymandias, Rorschach."

"Ah," said Sally. She looked Rorschach up and down. "You're shorter than I imagined, Rorschach."

Rorschach was hurt. Ozymandias cleared his throat while Nite Owl II looked away. Blake scratched his head.

"Gee Sal, you're fatter than I remembered," said Blake.

"Oh Eddie, you're such a joker," she said, and laughed. Blake looked at Rorschach and shrugged again. Sally turned to address the others. "Now everyone, dinner should be out in a couple minutes, but why don't we seat ourselves while we're at it?"

Sally herded them into the dining room. She had set up a table large enough to seat all of them and perhaps a couple more people. Rorschach sat down. Nite Owl II and Ozymandias sat on either side of him. He didn't really mind in this instance. Blake sat on the other side of Ozymandias. Hollis and Nelly sat on the opposite side of the table, facing Nite Owl II and Rorschach. The room was silent for a moment before Laurie came in and started putting food on the table. Sally was right behind her. Laurie looked up briefly and smiled when she noticed Rorschach. She returned to the kitchen and continued to assist her mother until the table was full.

"Well boys, dig in," said Sally, as she put the last serving utensil into a bowl of mashed potatoes.

Everyone busied themselves with dishing out food and eating. Hollis and Nelson were still talking, but other than that, the room was silent.

"Wow," said Nite Owl II, partly to Rorschach, partly to everyone else. "It's kind of awkward like this."

"Well, that's because you're in that cumbersome getup, dear," said Sally.

"Oh, why not," laughed Nite Owl II. "Everyone here apart from a couple of people has seen me without the mask anyway."

He took off his goggles and pulled back his hood. Then he took out a pair of glasses and put them on. Ozymandias and Rorschach glared at him.

"Much better," said Dan. Rorschach wanted to stab him with his fork.

"So, what kind of work do you do, Dan?" asked Sally. "Hollis has told me so much about you I feel like I practically know you. Of course, he's always kept the privacy policy so I don't know anything but surface details."

"Aw, shucks," said Dan. "I'm into ornithology, actually. My father was a banker but I never got into that line of work. He left me his fortune when he died -- I keep hobbies, such as building, mechanical work and all that, and the aforementioned ornithology, of course."

Ozymandias rolled his eyes. Rorschach wanted to choke Dan this time. Choke him with his cloth napkin. See how many birds you can spot hovering around your field of vision as you black out, _Dan_.

"That's very nice," said Sally. "How about you, Rorschach?"

"I'm not much into ornithology," Rorschach joked. Ozymandias cleared his throat again. Blake laughed.

Sally frowned.

"I'm sorry, I suppose you misunderstood me," she told him. "I meant -- what kind of work do you do?"

Rorschach stared at her directly but didn't respond.

"All right," said Sally, turning a little red. "How about you, Ozymandias?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Juspeczyk--"

"Oh, please, call me Sally."

"Sally." Ozymandias paused as he dabbed his mouth with his napkin. "I apologize, but considering our line of work, I do not find it appropriate to divulge too much personal information to each other -- even if some of us are retired. I hope you don't take offense to this, but I believe it helps protect the identities of all involved, directly or otherwise."

"Fair enough," said Sally, looking around. "We have a couple of hobos here, do we?"

Sally laughed, and so did Hollis, Nelson, and Dan. Ozymandias gave Rorschach a look before resuming his dinner without another word.

"So," said Blake, a little loudly, "What have you old folks been up to in the meantime?"

"Oh, Eddie," said Sally. "You make it seem like I'm sixty-two."

"Only barely," said Blake.

"We were always sixty-two to you," said Hollis, pointing at him in a surprisingly friendly manner.

"Yeah yeah," said Blake, laughing.

"Are you younger than them, uh, Comedian?" asked Laurie. It was the first time she had spoken, and she seemed intrigued.

"Hey kid, call me Eddie," he said casually. Rorschach decided that father and daughter were both fine actors.

"Eddie is the youngest of us," said Nelson.

"Yes, fifteen when you joined, correct?" asked Hollis, politely.

"Yep," said Eddie. His face darkened only a bit.

"I was fifteen when I started out," said Laurie, brightening.

"She just couldn't wait to get out there," Sally laughed. "A little too young, but what can you do? You men seem so young too. How old are you, Rorschach?"

Rorschach froze.

"Ninety-seven," said Blake. "Jesus Christ, you ask a lot of questions."

"What? I can't really tell by the mask, Eddie."

"I never heard you asking Hooded Justice a thousand annoying questions."

"How do you know? Besides, I just want to know all about who my daughter is dating."

Ozymandias only glanced at Rorschach and Blake was still looking at Sally, but the other men stared at him. Dan was gaping. Rorschach was mortified.

"Mom," said Laurie, sounding astonished.

"Inquiring mothers would like to know, dear," said Sally.

"Yeah, Rorschach," said Blake, sarcastically. "What kind of toilet paper do you use?"

"Eddie," said Sally, putting a hand to her mouth. "What awful table manners."

"Leave the kid alone."

"I'll do what I like in my own house."

"Is that why you brought us here? So you can humiliate people at their own expense?"

"No, Eddie, why would I--"

"That shit don't go anywhere with me, and you know it -- stop pretending like you got that halo on your head, Sally."

"Now, now--" said Hollis.

"You keep out of this, Mason," said Blake, raising his voice.

"Eddie--" said Sally.

"Could you pass the poultry dish, please?" asked Ozymandias.

"Uh, I think the pie might be done, Mom," said Laurie, quickly.

"Oh, yes, of course," said Sally. She left, looking upset.

"Hey Hollis," said Dan, taking some initiative, "How is your business going?"

"Very well, thank you," said Hollis, eyeing Blake a little nervously. "Are you still working on that car I lent you?"

"Yes, almost done, actually... I just can't seem to find any time for it nowadays, though."

"That's the life of a crime fighter, unfortunately."

"Even if some of us have day jobs," Rorschach muttered to Ozymandias. Ozymandias actually laughed. Rorschach decided he hated Ozymandias less than Nite Owl II.

Dan was now talking shop with Mason, so Rorschach turned to Ozymandias.

"How's search for murdering Agent?" he asked him.

"Still going with no leads, I'm afraid," sighed Ozymandias. "There's a definite pattern, but not too clear. The murders almost remind me of Jack the Ripper -- without women of ill repute being the targets, of course."

"No, then we wouldn't be having this dinner," Rorschach told him. Ozymandias laughed, hard.

"I suppose we wouldn't," Ozymandias agreed. They laughed together. Dan looked in their direction but he was in the middle of talking to Hollis and paid them no mind after that.

Rorschach looked up to find that Sally had returned, and she was watching him.

After dinner, everyone retired to the sitting room. Hollis, Nelson, and Dan were conversing like old friends. Ozymandias sat near them, but didn't contribute. Blake was outside smoking. Rorschach wished he could just go home -- or at least just fight crime tonight. He'd even take Nite Owl II as a fighting partner if it would mean he could get out of the house.

Laurie and Sally were in the kitchen, cleaning up, he would imagine. He wandered through the house and found the kitchen. Sally was there, but Laurie wasn't.

"Oh," said Sally, jumping a little. "Come in to help, have you?"

Rorschach started to say no, but Sally shoved a towel into his hand.

"Here, you can wipe the dishes," she told him. "You can do that, can't you?"

Offended, Rorschach took off his gloves and started to wipe dishes.

"I really don't know what Laurie sees in you, frankly," she said.

Rorschach paused for only a brief second, then continued as if she hadn't said anything.

"A mother would like to see their daughter get married to a certain kind of man," said Sally. Rorschach eyed the bottle on the counter and realized she had been drinking again. He bristled.

"I assure you, ma'am, married to your daughter, I would guarantee that she wouldn't be having another man's child," he told her in a cold voice.

Sally turned and gaped at him, shocked. Of course -- she didn't know he knew. It looked like Sally was going to say something else, when Laurie came in. She looked tired, but she brightened when she saw Rorschach.

"Laurie, take your boyfriend out of here," Sally told her daughter.

"All right," said Laurie, looking first at her mother, then at Rorschach. Rorschach set down the dishtowel, picked up his gloves, and took Laurie by the hand. He gladly left the kitchen.

"What was that about?" Laurie whispered to him, though they were well out of earshot by now.

"Are you going home soon?" he asked her.

Laurie shook her head and frowned.

"No... she convinced me to stay over for the weekend," she said. "I think she thinks that if I do, I'll somehow be convinced to move back here."

"Are you?"

"You kidding me?" Laurie laughed. "That dinner was so embarrassing, I don't think I'll be sleeping tonight thinking about the awful things that happened."

Rorschach nodded at her, but said nothing.

"Oh," Laurie's expression softened. "I'm so sorry about my mother; I don't know what's gotten into her asking those rude questions, Rorschach."

"She dislikes me," he told her.

"That's not--"

"I don't like her either, so it's all right."

Laurie gave him a sad smile. Her eyes wandered behind him and he turned. It looked like Nelly was leaving already.

"I should go," he told her. "Thank you for the dinner."

"You're welcome," said Laurie. "It's too bad you can't stay."

Rorschach agreed, but he didn't say anything. He just cupped her hand -- the one he had been holding -- with both of his. He turned towards the door after a moment, and Laurie walked him outside. Hollis and Dan were still in the sitting room, but Blake and Ozymandias were in the yard. It looked like Ozymandias was telling Blake something quite serious by the look on his face, but that was Ozymandias' basic facial expression so they could have been talking about anything. Blake just nodded with his cigar in his hand.

"Good night, Walter," Laurie whispered to him as he turned to look at her again. Rorschach started to put his hand out to touch her face, but he saw Sally appear in the doorway and stopped himself.

"Good night, Laurie," he said.

Rorschach nodded politely to Ozymandias and Blake as he walked into the night.

-----

To be continued...


	29. Chapter 29

Ch. 29

"You know, I really just don't like that Rorschach," said Sally, the next morning.

Laurie closed her eyes, feeling the faint beginnings of a headache. Sally was doing the breakfast dishes, and Laurie wished she could just leave the house. Sally would have none of that, however.

"You never visit your old mother anymore, Laurie," Sally had said. "Why not spend just one day with me before you run off with your friends?"

Laurie felt compelled to stay after that, but now she felt as if her mother wanted her around just to subject her to verbal torture.

"Nite Owl II is a very polite, bright boy," Sally continued, before Laurie could say anything. "He's good looking too, don't you think?"

"Nite Owl II is an annoying pushover," said Laurie, folding her arms.

"He's not so bad; I think he's sweet." Laurie's mother was practically pouting.

"Then you marry him," said Laurie.

"You're not going to marry _him_, are you? That Rorschach?" asked Sally, turning to Laurie as if she had just told her she was going to jump off a building.

"What's wrong with Rorschach?" asked Laurie, avoiding the direct question.

"He gives me the heebie jeebies -- I mean honestly, he's dressed like one of those perverts you'd find in those shady theaters."

"I'm sure you know all about those perverts, Mother."

"Laurie -- don't talk to your mother like that."

"I don't see what's wrong with the way he's dressed," argued Laurie. "I think he looks more like a private eye. Besides, what does that have to do with his personality?"

"You can tell a lot about someone by the way they dress."

"I doubt his intent with his costume was for him to impress people with it in that regard."

"Even still, it's not as nice as how Nite Owl II dresses, dear."

Laurie sighed.

"He copied someone else, Mother."

"No, he improvised -- made the original costume even better."

"Mother, what does this have to do with anything?"

Sally sighed loudly. Finished with the dishes, she turned off the faucet and faced Laurie while drying her hands.

"He's rude, anti-social and brooding -- he seems rather harsh, Laurie -- he isn't good enough for you."

"I think he's perfectly acceptable." Laurie glared at her mother.

"Well it goes to show you how inexperienced you are at choosing men."

"At least I'm not getting married to someone just for the sake of being comfortable in my old age," said Laurie, standing up.

"Who told you that?" Sally looked surprised.

"You did, Mom -- you were drunk at the time so maybe you don't remember."

"Oh," Sally composed herself again. "Anyway, if you think you're going to marry this man, you've got another thing coming."

"We can elope then," said Laurie. She wasn't even sure why they were having this argument. Walter hadn't even proposed marriage to her, let alone discussed it.

"Don't expect any money from me."

"We can live in the street if we have to, then."

"That's ridiculous, Laurie, be a little realistic, will you?"

"I think you're being ridiculous if you think I'm going to turn around and go out with Dan."

"How will you know who you really like if you only go out with one man?"

"I found someone I liked already -- why do I have to look for anybody else?"

"To see if there's anyone better," said Sally, folding her own arms. "And there are plenty of better men out there."

"And that's why you're happy and content, Mother," said Laurie.

"Laurie -- what's gotten into you?" Sally held her hand to her heart as if Laurie had attacked her for no reason.

"I don't like what you're saying about Rorschach," Laurie sighed. "You never liked him to begin with and you're just reaching with these comments."

"No, Laurie," said Sally, shaking her head as if Laurie was a very stupid, silly thing. "While you were out yesterday, I had a chance to talk to this sweetheart of yours, and he said something very demeaning to me."

"What?" Laurie was taken aback. It didn't sound like something Rorschach would do, regardless of whether or not he disliked her mother.

"I also don't like the way he looks at me, in that awful accusing manner," sighed Sally. "Were you the one who told him about your father?"

"No," said Laurie. "No...actually, he's the one who found out and told me."

"What was he doing snooping around in your business like that?"

"He likes to do that."

"Creep, I tell you, Laurie, you're going to have to be careful, or you're going to be stuck with a demanding man who asks you for the most distasteful of favors, and treats you like his property."

"He's just fine as he is."

Sally's eyes widened for some reason, and suddenly she was laughing at her. Laurie stared at her as if she had gone insane.

"Oh, I see," said Sally. "I see now. He's good in bed, is that it? That's what this is about?"

"What?" Laurie felt her face flush. "No-- I mean, we haven't done any of that, Mother!"

"Laurie," Sally shook her head. "Do you think I was born yesterday? There's no need to lie about things like that."

"I'm not lying," shouted Laurie.

"Sweetheart," said Sally, trying the comforting mother approach. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. I bedded plenty of men in my day."

"Uck," said Laurie. "Mother, I don't want to hear about that."

"It's perfectly natural."

"No!"

"I just don't want you to end up getting pregnant by a man who doesn't take responsibility."

"I'm not going to get pregnant!"

"That's not something you decide -- it gets decided for you when you sleep around."

Laurie stared at her mother.

"Mother, what kind of person do you think I am?"

"A young teenage girl who doesn't know any better."

"I'm not like you."

"I'm not saying that you are. In many ways you are like Eddie -- very stubborn and impossible to have a civilized conversation with."

Laurie frowned and didn't say anything. It seemed that she just wasn't going to win this no matter how she looked at it.

"Now, why don't I make you a cake?" asked Sally. Laurie stared at her, wondering if she had finally lost it.

"All right," sighed Laurie; wondering what to expect next, she braced herself.

"I invited Nite Owl II," she told her. "For lunch. Just the three of us."

"Mother," exclaimed Laurie. "Are you setting us up?"

"I just like him, that's all," said Sally, shaking her head. "It's just lunch."

Laurie frowned and dreaded the rest of the day. Dan showed up out of costume and mostly spoke to Sally, who seemed to want to ask him a billion questions, then give Laurie a "See?" look whenever Dan would talk. Laurie was bored. After lunch, Sally tried to get Laurie to chat with Dan while she did the dishes. Laurie just glared at Dan while Dan looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"So, uh," said Dan, turning red. "You and Rorschach, eh?"

"Yes," snapped Laurie, "And it's going to stay that way whether you like it or not."

"All right," said Dan, adjusting his glasses. "Broke up with Walter, huh?"

Laurie looked at Dan in horror. He had asked the question just as Sally came in.

"Who's Walter?" asked Sally, smiling.

Laurie opened her mouth and hoped that the right words would come out.

"Dan, how's Ozymandias?" Laurie stared at him.

"Huh?" Dan blinked at her. "I haven't fought with him recently."

"Oh, that's too bad," Laurie nodded. "I guess he found out about the Twilight Lady, huh?"

Dan looked shocked. He seemed to have lost his ability to speak.

"What's this about the Twilight Lady?" asked Sally.

"Oh, he used to date her -- isn't that great?" Laurie laughed. "Anyway, I think I'm going back to Dad's -- I left my costume there, and I'd like to go out tonight. See you later, Dan."

"B-Bye," Dan looked like he had lost function of his limbs. He limply sat on the couch as he gawked after her.

"Laurie, do you have to leave?" Sally looked sad.

"I didn't know you stayed at your father's house," said Dan, looking at her all of a sudden. "Who's your father?"

Laurie turned to look at Dan in disbelief. She had to keep herself from slapping him.

"See you later, Dan," she told him. "Bye Mom."

Laurie heard her mother say something to her as she was leaving, but Laurie ran out before she heard something that would make her guilty and force her to stay again. Laurie tried to clear her mind of all the harsh words swirling around her head, courtesy of her mother. Then of course, Dan had to open his big mouth. Laurie wondered if Sally would pry information out of Dan while she was alone with him. Of course she would. Laurie cringed at the idea. Then she stopped walking when she had a horrible thought. Sally had been a regular at the dress shop. What if she put the pieces together and figured things out? Worse yet -- what if Mr. Greer mentioned her and Walter while her mother was at the shop? Laurie worried about it all the way back to Blake's. Blake was out in front, mowing the lawn. He stopped when he saw Laurie.

"Hey," he said, smiling. "I thought you were staying out for the weekend?"

"Dad," said Laurie, rushing up and hugging him. He seemed surprised. "It was terrible."

Blake laughed.

"What now?"

Laurie told him the conversation she had with Sally regarding Rorschach.

"I don't know why she has to be so hateful like that," said Laurie. "And Nite Owl II? Seriously?"

"Eh -- it's just because he's a banker's son and a kiss ass," said Blake, waving his hand around.

"And a blabbermouth," muttered Laurie.

"What?"

"She invited him for lunch today. He... well, he asked a stupid question. I guess I need to explain first, otherwise it won't make any sense."

Blake listened patiently as Laurie told him about the dress shop and Walter, all the while not referring to him by name. She told him how she found out that it had been Rorschach, and how Dan had seen the two of them together.

"Dan asked me loudly, in front of Mom, if I had broken up with the guy in the dress shop," Laurie told him, finally.

Blake started to laugh and continued on for a few minutes as Laurie watched him, offended.

"It's not funny," she told him.

"Oh, but it is," he said. "Mark my words, if your mother has a chance at Rorschach again, she's going to think she has something to one-up him with. She'll mention this dress shop guy and then it'll actually be him and... man, that's hilarious."

"I still don't see what there is to laugh about," sighed Laurie. "It's awful."

"Laurie, don't listen to your mother -- if you take everything she says seriously she's going to drive you crazy."

"But if she disapproves of Rorschach this much--"

"Then she'll have to deal with it."

Laurie almost argued, but after thinking about it for a moment, she shrugged.

"Fair enough," she told her father. Then she smiled. "Going out tonight."

"Have fun," said Blake, turning back to the yard as Laurie went inside to change.

-----

To be continued...


	30. Chapter 30

Ch. 30

Rorschach and Nightshade made their way down to the factory district. They had narrowed down the possible locations of Underboss' hideout to one factory building with Nite Owl II, but for some reason Nite Owl II had not turned up that evening. They had waited for over half an hour for him to show up, but he never did. Rorschach thought this was strange, considering that they were supposed to investigate their major lead that night, but on the other hand, he didn't really care if Nite Owl II was there. He was more concerned about how troubled Nightshade seemed.

"What's wrong?" he asked her, finally.

Nightshade looked at him, surprised, as if she hadn't been obvious at all and that he had instead read her mind, somehow.

"Oh," she said, shaking her head. "Just thinking about my mother."

Rorschach grunted. He certainly didn't want to think about her mother right now. He was still sore from the showdown at dinner the night before.

"I just wish she would like you," Nightshade explained. "I don't know, maybe if she just met you out of costume..."

Rorschach laughed at that. Nightshade gave him a bewildered look.

"Your mother would hate me even more out of costume," he explained to her.

"I can't imagine that." Nightshade shook her head and looked away.

Rorschach studied her profile thoughtfully. He wanted to explain to her, but it didn't seem right, somehow. If she wanted to believe that her mother would like a working class son of a prostitute with social issues that made Dan look like the crown prince of England, then he would let her believe that. No need to dampen her hopes, no matter how ridiculous. Still, looking at it this way, he couldn't help but feel pleased. Seeing as how Sally detested him, he wouldn't have to do anything but continue to court her daughter in order to annoy the hell out of her.

The factory buildings were closed down for the night and stretched out into the darkness before them. Nightshade was struggling to look at a map that she had drawn out of the area. Rorschach placed his hand over hers and shook his head. He had memorized the route, and he led them in through the path that stretched out toward stark buildings. Some buildings even looked like they were built during the turn of the century. When they approached the factory building that they had been searching for it appeared to be just as deserted as the rest of the buildings in the area. Rorschach wondered if they had come across another dead lead. He and Nightshade stood and watched for any signs of activity for a long while before Rorschach finally leaned over to Nightshade.

"I'll go to the back and search the area," he whispered to her.

Nightshade nodded and he could barely see it. Why on earth was it so hard to see? Briefly he worried leaving her here by herself in the darkness, but he shrugged it off. She could take care of herself, even if one could barely tell what was going on around oneself. That meant their enemies would have equal difficulty spotting them in return.

Unless, of course, they had Nite Owl II's goggles. Rorschach crept to the back of the factory building as he disturbed himself by imagining Nite Owl II as some twisted villain who watched them as he lured them to their deaths.

Rorschach almost laughed. Nite Owl II as a villain was a thoroughly ridiculous idea, even after considering his aversion for the man.

Rorschach hit the mother lode of criminality when he reached the back area. There were dozens of men patrolling, moving crates and socializing, some checking clipboards, others just keeping watch. Rorschach was an ambitious man, but even he wasn't about to go running into that one. He decided to return to the front of the building and tell Nightshade. At first, he couldn't find her. Was he looking in the wrong spot? Rorschach looked around him. In the darkness he thought he saw some strange patterns on the ground. With the lack of light the patterns just looked like greater black against lesser, but Rorschach knew better and went still as he realized what he was seeing.

Rorschach followed the patterns which led him into the building. He heard a man muttering to himself somewhere beyond the doorway. Rorschach went inside, and what had appeared to be dark patches outside now revealed themselves to be blood in the dim light. Rorschach had to keep from retching as fear rose up in his throat and stuck there. In the hall, he could finally distinguish some of the muttered speech.

"Damn heavy bitch, aren't you?"

Rorschach looked up and followed the voice as he heard a soft thud. He rounded the corner and saw first Nightshade, on the floor and barely conscious. A big man was standing over her, drawing from a whisky bottle before setting it aside. He bent down and touched her face and Rorschach made his way over to him. The man might draw the alarm if he saw him, but it didn't matter. He had seen the way he was touching her, and he knew what he was getting to. The man had barely started to unbutton her pants when Rorschach was on top of him.

The man tried to cry out, but Rorschach grabbed the whisky bottle and in one swift move broke it and forced the shards of glass into his mouth to silence him as he took him by the hair and threw him against the wall. Then Rorschach braced himself on the man's torso and punched him with such force that spittle, blood, and vomit sprayed out from the man's mouth. Rorschach left him face down in a pool of his own body fluids and hoped that he would drown. He started to go to Nightshade, but he thought better of it, stepped across her and looked around the corner instead. The hall was empty. It seemed nobody had heard them, and if they had, they didn't seem to have cared.

Rorschach crouched over Nightshade and touched her forehead gingerly. For a moment he was sure that she was dead, and the room started to turn red around him. Then he saw the faint pulse in her throat. The man seemed to have managed to tear out the button near her collar. Feeling cold with rage, Rorschach searched her. It seemed the man hadn't touched her otherwise -- Rorschach had thankfully not been gone that long. However, on closer inspection, he realized the blood that had created a trail for him to follow had been coming from a cut in her side. He pulled the fabric of her shirt aside to inspect it. She had been stabbed, probably by a hunting knife. When his fingers grazed her wound, Nightshade moaned as her eyes started to flutter open.

"Wha..I...elp," she was muttering incoherently, and her head fell to her shoulder as she struggled a little.

Rorschach searched her scalp and found more blood on the back of it, but thankfully, this blood was already starting to dry. Rorschach pulled the scarf away from his throat and pressed it to the wound on Nightshade's side. He secured it with the belt from his jacket. Grimacing to himself, he apologized quietly to Nightshade as he stooped down to put one arm around her shoulders and the other beneath her thighs as he picked her up. They were far from any hospital in this area, and Rorschach was worried that she would bleed out by the time he reached one. Stepping as quickly as he could through the pathway that led away from the industrial areas and out into the main streets, Rorschach searched for anything that could help. Reaching a phone booth, Rorschach cursed silently as he set Nightshade down for a moment and went inside. He searched the phone book, hoping that Blake's number was in it. It was.

Rorschach searched his pockets for a coin and luckily found several. He dialed the number and hoped that Blake hadn't decided to go out that night.

"Hello?" asked Blake, after the second ring. For a moment Rorschach thought he was going to faint.

"Comedian," said Rorschach; in that instant he had forgotten his name.

"Rorschach? What the hell's wrong?" Blake asked, already sounding alarmed.

"Nightshade should go to the hospital," he told him, "19435 Haldwell Avenue."

"Be there."

Blake had already hung up. Roschach realized just then that he could have called an emergency dispatch and almost did that as well, but decided after a moment that they wouldn't come out here. Not many ventured out into the worse areas of the city, no matter what happened. It took Blake twenty minutes to get there, but to Rorschach, it was forever. Blake finally drove up in a car and Rorschach approached with Nightshade, who was already back in his arms again.

"What took you so long?" he asked Blake, as the older man got out of the car.

"Had to get the car from Hollis," said Blake. "What happened?"

"Stabbed, possibly concussed."

"Get in."

Rorschach almost snarled at Blake, but he decided against it. He had already been halfway in -- Blake didn't need to tell him these things. He placed Nightshade in the back and climbed in behind her and closed the door. Blake sped out into the darkness without a word. They reached a hospital in five minutes -- not because it was close, but because Blake was going at a crazy speed. Even going seventy miles per hour in a residential area, the cops didn't stop them. Probably because there weren't any around.

Blake maneuvered the car through the emergency zone of the hospital and jumped out without bothering with the parking break. Rorschach started to get out as well, when Blake stopped him.

"What kind of ass are you going to look going in dressed like that? You stay here," he told him.

Rorschach had to stop himself from attacking Blake. Instead, he hesitated for just a few seconds before he took off his hat, mask, and jacket. Now he looked like just another man in a suit. Blake didn't even bat an eye.

"Come on then," Blake told him, as he led the way to the emergency room. Blake was smart enough to take off Nightshade's own mask before they went inside.

A nurse was walking by as they entered and her eyes widened as she looked down at their feet. She called for a gurney and took Nightshade away. Walter realized that Nightshade had started to bleed again from the stress of being carried. His right hand was covered in blood, and more had pooled down at his feet where he had been standing with her in his arms. He looked at Blake, who appeared drawn and pale.

Blake made his way to the waiting area and sat himself down. Walter followed him and sat down next to him.

"I think she'll be okay," said Blake, more to himself than to Walter.

"Yes," Walter agreed, also more for his benefit than to answer Blake.

Blake turned his head to look at him. Walter saw this in his peripheral vision but finally turned to look at Blake as well when he didn't look away.

"Hmm," said Blake. "You're a little older looking than I expected."

Walter frowned. All right, he was older than Laurie, but he wasn't middle-aged, or anything.

"How old are you?" Blake asked.

Walter didn't answer but gave him a cool stare instead. Blake laughed at that, surprisingly.

"You've got real attitude, kid, you know that?"

Walter didn't know whether to take that as a compliment and kept silent.

"You can tell a lot about a crime fighter outside of their costume," Blake observed. "Take Nite Owl II, for instance. In costume? Pretty impressive. Out of it? You kind of want to cringe away in embarrassment."

Walter nodded at him. Blake didn't even seem to be looking at him now. Probably talking to keep his head clear, Walter supposed.

"You look tough in costume," said Blake. "Look tough out of it too. Been through a lot, have you?"

"Yes," said Walter. He had almost said no, but he had no intentions of sounding cocky so gave in to affirmation.

Blake nodded vaguely. He still wasn't looking at him, and he seemed to be lost in thought.

"It's strange to think about all that's happened this past year," Blake told him after a short pause. "And it's even stranger to think that it's all because of you."

Walter turned his attention to a woman walking past with a young boy who had a broken arm. The boy was crying, and the mother looked worried and far more aged than she should have been.

"How did you ever find out about me and Sally, anyway?" asked Blake. "About me and Laurie?"

Walter shrugged.

"I just saw the three of you; guessed it." Walter turned and looked at him again.

"Is it that obvious, or are you just a shrewd bastard?" Blake was narrowing his eyes at him, but smiled and nodded to show he meant nothing harsh by it.

"Shrewd," nodded Walter. Blake laughed at that.

"You know," said Blake, frowning, "I suppose I should be calling Laurie's mother, but it seems pointless to, don't you think?"

Walter shrugged. He didn't know what the protocol was for things like this. It didn't help that Blake didn't really know either.

A doctor approached them to let them know that Laurie was still unconscious, but stabilized. Blake gave Walter a relieved look.

"I just wanted to know what happened," explained the doctor as he went through some papers on a clipboard. "Is there anything that needs to be filed in a police report?"

"They were mugged, that's all," said Blake. "The two of them were out and got attacked."

The doctor peered at Walter through his glasses.

"I'm surprised you hadn't tried to fight them off," he said, in a nasally voice that got on Walter's nerves.

"There were half a dozen of them," said Blake. "All wearing masks."

"I see." The doctor didn't really look like he believed Blake's story, but he also didn't seem to care all that much either. He wrote something in his papers and walked away without another word.

"I could have told him you or I did it and we would have gotten the same reaction," muttered Blake.

Walter gave him a wounded look, and Blake held up his hand.

"Hey, I'm not suggesting that you or I would do something like that. No broken hearts on sleeves."

"When can we see her?" Walter asked, changing the subject. He knew that Blake had no idea, but helped get the point across that he did not want to discuss Blake's theory.

"Who knows," Blake said, getting up. He walked to the front desk to talk to a nurse and Walter followed him closely behind. The nurse gave them a hard time, insisting that it was after visiting hours. Blake had to explain a few dozen times that they had come in through the emergency entrance -- this still was the emergency room, in fact. The nurse finally told them to wait another half hour while they made arrangements for them to see Laurie.

"Don't know what this world is coming to when you have to break your legs to get anywhere -- no wonder your mother drinks so much," Blake told Walter. Walter gave him a blank stare before Blake realized what he had said and laughed. "Yeesh, I don't know what I'm going on about -- thought for some reason you were my kid."

"That would be a rather disturbing revelation considering my circumstances with Laurie," Walter said quietly, though it warmed his heart to think that the older man viewed him as a son.

"Yeah, yeah..."

The two men looked at each other and smiled as if they had a great secret between them now. They waited out the rest of the half hour in a comfortable silence.

-----

To be continued...


	31. Chapter 31

Ch. 31

Laurie woke up and thought she heard her father's voice. Then Walter's, but further away. Disoriented, she tried to move her head, but it was throbbing too hard for her to do much. She struggled to see through her blurred vision as she felt someone approach her. She slipped into unconsciousness for a moment, and when she awoke again, she could see more clearly. At first, all she saw was a nightstand with fake flowers and next to it a pitcher with water and a glass; some tubes running from her arm to a drip, the foot of the bed, then on the other side, Walter. Laurie thought she was imagining this or dreaming at first, because she thought she saw her father behind him in the doorway. But that didn't make sense.

Laurie tried to speak, but found that she couldn't. She turned to the bedside table next to her and tried to reach for the glass. Walter said something to her, then leaned over her to take the pitcher and glass to pour her some water. Laurie watched him, realizing that he was in a suit. Why was he dressed in a suit? It really must be a dream. She drank the water and felt a little better.

If it was a dream, though, she wouldn't have this awful, throbbing headache. She heard her father say something. She looked up to see Walter talking to him. Walter nodded, then watched her as her father left. She was worried that Walter would leave too, but he didn't. He came to her side again.

"You all right?" he asked her. Even in the dim light, his eyes were full of concern.

"I think so," said Laurie, feeling a little confused. "What happened?"

"You were attacked," said Walter, leaning closer to her. "Don't you remember?"

Laurie paused, thinking. She saw images without shape or form come back to her and started to nod.

"What happened?" Walter was sitting at her side now, studying her intently.

Laurie struggled to remember. For some reason, all she could picture for a moment was Dan. Oh, of course. Dan -- Nite Owl II -- hadn't shown up that night. She recalled the factories and the darkness, and Rorschach leaving. She saw a figure in her mind's eye and recoiled. She felt a calming hand on her own; looked down and realized it was Walter.

"Am I in the hospital?" she asked him.

Walter smiled a little.

"Yes," he said, nodding slowly. "You were attacked -- do you know how this happened?"

Laurie's mind kept wandering back to the figure. Oh, and Dan. Dan was a very polite, bright boy. Good looking too. Laurie frowned. No, that was her mother's voice.

"You're better looking," Laurie said.

"What?" Walter looked confused.

"You're better than Dan," she said. "At everything."

Walter laughed softly. Laurie pushed Dan out of her mind and tried to remember. Oh, yes, the figure. It was coming to her now.

"You had just gone off," Laurie said, looking away to focus on the memory. "Almost immediately after that, I thought I saw someone walk by. I thought it was a man, but then I smelled something queer, and afterwards I couldn't focus much on anything, really. The man left, though, towards the factory building. Not long after that, I was attacked. The man who attacked me -- I think he was drunk, smelled like alcohol -- I think he was just as surprised as I was. It was so dark, neither of us could really see. I tried to react, but that smell, after that smell it was as if I had lost my senses."

"Then what happened?" asked Walter, leaning closer.

"Then he hit me on the head," she said, wincing a little. "Then he punched me in the side. Then I don't remember much. I think I was dragged, or carried, maybe both. Then I remember you. You were saying these things to him."

"I was?" Walter looked surprised.

"Yes." Laurie focused as hard as she could on the last whispers of her memories before everything faded away up to the moment when she awoke in the hospital bed.

_Garbage_.

Garbage? What else was there? What else had Rorschach said?

She couldn't remember.

Laurie frowned and shook her head at Walter.

"I don't remember," she told him tearfully.

"It's all right," he told her. He ran his fingers across her forehead to move her hair away from her face.

Laurie wished she could get her mother's voice out of her head. It was making her temples throb as if her veins would burst. Her head had just been filled to the brim and she couldn't take it. She wished her mother would just go away and leave her alone.

"I think you're perfectly acceptable," sighed Laurie.

"I am?" Walter's eyebrows were raised.

Laurie tried to speak, but instead put up her hand and held it against his face. Walter looked at her with apprehension.

"Why does she have to be like that, Walter?" Laurie asked.

"Who? Your mother?"

"I wish she wouldn't drink anymore," Laurie said, exhausted all of a sudden. "She just says these awful things and won't stop. She doesn't care how she sounds, just says things to make herself feel better but I feel bad."

"Your mother loves you," Walter told her.

"Sometimes I wish she wouldn't love me at all -- if she hated me it would be so much better."

"No," Walter said, looking distraught. "No, no, no. It isn't."

"If she hated me, then I could hate her, too."

"No."

Laurie dug her palms into her eyes, driving the tears away. When she looked up, her father was there again.

"Dad," said Laurie, sniffing.

"Laurie," said Blake, smiling at her. "How are you feeling?"

"Miserable."

"Are you in pain?" Blake asked.

"No, I'm talking about Mom."

Blake gave a half-hearted laugh.

"Speaking of your mother, I called her," he told Laurie then turned to Walter. "Thought you might like to know. She's freaked and she's going to be here soon."

Walter nodded.

"I should go," said Walter.

"No, why?" Laurie felt upset. The headache wasn't going away, either.

"She's not going to like him here whether he's in costume or not," Blake said, patting Laurie's arm.

"Then why doesn't she leave instead? I don't want you to go, Walter."

Walter looked heartbroken at that.

"I'm sorry," he told her.

Laurie put her hands to her face again. She didn't understand why her eyes were streaming, or why she was so distressed. She felt hands on her wrists and they moved her own away from her eyes. It was Walter.

"I'll be here tomorrow," he told her. "I'll stop by before I go to work."

"What if Mother insists on staying here all night?"

"Then I'll trick her into leaving the room."

"You shouldn't have to."

Walter gave her a pained smile and said nothing. He stooped over her to give her a kiss on the forehead, then stood up and looked at her before he turned to leave. Blake put his hand on his shoulder and muttered something to him. They had a short muted conversation before Blake gave him a key. Walter nodded at Blake, then turned to look at Laurie one more time before leaving.

"What was that key?" asked Laurie, after running the back of her hand across her eyes.

"For Hollis' car," said Blake, shrugging. He walked over and sat on the chair Walter had been in moments before. The chair must have been warm. It made Laurie sad again.

"Oh," she said, not bothering to ask for an explanation as she tried to turn away on her side so she could cry in peace.

"Hey," said Blake, sounding alarmed. "Don't do that, you'll pull the stitches."

Laurie turned and looked at her father, tears forgotten for now.

"Stitches? For what?"

"For your side -- don't you remember?"

"I was punched there," Laurie said, blinking in confusion.

"No, honey, you were stabbed there."

Laurie lifted the covers from her, then her hospital gown. A long line of sutures ran down her side under her ribs. Feeling weak, she lay her head back down and let Blake put the covers back on her. He seemed to want to say something, but gave up and sat next to her in silence. Comforted by her father's presence, Laurie had started to drift off into sleep when she heard her mother's voice -- this time, it wasn't in her head, either.

"Laurie!" said Sally, making Laurie jump. She opened her eyes and saw her mother, then her father who seemed startled. Sally rushed to her side. "Oh, my poor baby."

Laurie stared up at her mother, who was dressed nicely and looking quite pretty. Nothing but love and concern was in her mother's eyes at that moment, and Laurie wished it would be like this forever. She knew that look was fleeting, however, and it made her depressed.

"Are you all right?" Sally asked, as she tried to come closer. Blake was in the way, so Sally shoved into him. Blake made a disgusted sound and stood up. Sally sat down instead.

"I'm... I'm okay," said Laurie. She saw Dan in the doorway and became upset. "W-Why is he here?"

"I needed a ride here," said Sally.

"She was visiting Hollis," Blake explained.

"Hollis would have driven me, but someone stole his car," Sally explained. "Dan was kind enough to drive me."

"Yeah, huh," said Blake. "Actually, that was me. Rorschach should have returned the car by now."

"Rorschach? What was he doing here?" Sally looked suspicious.

"He was out patrolling with Laurie," said Blake. "They--"

"I knew it," said Sally. "I knew he was the one behind this."

"Now Sally," Blake said, holding up his hand. "I don't think he--"

"This is why you shouldn't go out with a crime fighter, Laurie, see what happens? All they do is steal cars, put you in danger, and break your heart."

"Hey," Blake said, tossing his head in Dan's direction. "What is he, then?"

"You keep him out of this," said Sally. "As for stealing Hollis' car, how could you, Eddie? And if you knew I was visiting, why couldn't you knock on the door like any normal person and let me know that _my_ daughter was in the hospital?"

"There was no time," Blake said, looking agitated. "I got a call, okay? She was in trouble, that was all I knew. I needed a car, took it. By the time I explained it all to you lot and waited for your senile minds to wrap around the fact that she was in danger, she could have been dead."

"Yes, dead," Sally nodded. "My Laurie almost died tonight, and all you care about is stealing cars."

"What the hell," said Blake, laughing in disbelief. "Are you still drunk? Or so full of yourself you don't know what you're talking about?"

"You're just like him, that no good boyfriend of hers," said Sally. "Just as useless, and just as bad for her."

"Dad," said Laurie, finally. She gave her father a pleading look. This conversation was making her sick.

"I'm sorry," Blake said, eyes going soft.

"Why is it you call for your father?" asked Sally. "It's so insulting, Laurie, who was it that raised you and gave you a home the first seventeen years of your life?"

"Jesus Christ, Sally, she's in the hospital," said Blake. "Don't give her a hard time."

"This is why she gets in trouble, Eddie," Sally said, turning and pointing her finger at Blake. "You need to discipline her."

"For what? Getting stabbed?"

"No -- for going out with that boy!"

"They're just doing what we did when we were kids. We--"

"Exactly. Crime fighting is dangerous and unfitting for a young girl."

"You're the one who wanted me to go out there," said Laurie. She had an idea that she was angry about what her mother was saying, but all her emotions seemed to be translating into a deep sorrow instead.

"But not with him, where he'd put you in danger," Sally said, anger in her eyes.

"You know, Rorschach doesn't seem like the type who would do something like that," said Dan.

Everyone turned to look at him, surprised.

"It just seems a little unfair," Dan continued, "I mean--"

"Mind your own business," Sally snapped. Dan looked taken aback.

"Why don't we call in the doctors and nurses and all the other patients?" asked Blake. "You can yell at them too."

Sally looked indignant and started to talk back, but Laurie couldn't take it any longer.

"Dad," Laurie tried again.

"All right, Laurie, I'm sorry," Blake sighed. "Here, Sally, why don't we discuss this outside? Our daughter needs to rest."

"Well, I..." Sally turned and looked at Laurie, and for once she seemed remorseful for the scene she had caused. "All right."

Sally turned and kissed Laurie on the forehead, almost in the same spot Walter had. That made Laurie depressed again. She watched her mother leave with her father, and Dan, who was watching them with that cautious look of his. Blake closed the door behind him, and in the darkness, Laurie suddenly felt painfully lonely. She almost called them back, even Dan -- she didn't want to be here by herself. When she opened her mouth, no sound emerged from her lips. Instead, she slipped into a deep, dreamless slumber.

-----

To be continued...


	32. Chapter 32

Ch. 32

Rorschach left Hollis' car a block away from his home then left the key on his windowsill and knocked before slipping away. Looking up at the night sky, he realized it must be barely after midnight. Somehow it seemed as if more time had passed since the events at the factory and the hospital visit. Rorschach briefly considered going back to the factory, but it was too soon after what had happened. He didn't really want to do this, not right now. He almost thought of tracking down Nite Owl II and forcing him to go with him, but he didn't want to deal with that either. Instead, Rorschach patrolled the streets, even going beyond his usual routes. Every hour or so he would think of retiring for the night, but he didn't want to. He just kept going. He stopped a carjacking and tailed an ex-drug dealer for a while and determined he was behaving before he let off. Looking at the empty streets, Rorschach felt uneasy. For a moment he thought he was being followed, but no, he couldn't see anybody. He was just being paranoid.

Rorschach thought about the way crime rates had gone down. He would love to believe that they as vigilantes were doing something, making a difference, as Ozymandias would say, but he wondered if it was something else. Maybe the criminals had all gone underground, or moved to another city. Maybe they were afraid of something else that wasn't the Crimebusters. Rorschach saw the sky grow purple around him. The sun would be rising soon. Had he really been out that long?

Suddenly, he felt guilty. Underboss was going to know a crime fighter had stopped by if that man he had broken recovered enough to explain what had happened and word got around. Rorschach knew he couldn't manage so many people at once, but he could at least scout out to see where Underboss moved to next -- if indeed, that factory was Underboss'; he hadn't been able to determine that, either.

Feeling a strong sense of obligation, Rorschach returned to the factory district. It was still not yet dawn. Some factories were starting to open, but it was still mostly deserted. He slipped in and out of the bushes and behind buildings as he made his way to Underboss' suspected hideout.

The building still looked dead from where he was. But, something wasn't right. It looked _too_ dead.

Dead.

For some reason, that word sent a chill through Rorschach's spine. He approached the building cautiously, looking around him as he went. Laurie's blood had vanished from the ground without a trace. Puzzled, Rorschach turned towards the building again, that feeling he was being watched strong in him. Quietly, he went towards the building. There was something on the door that he could see from where he was standing, but he wasn't close enough to tell what it was exactly. He had a feeling he knew what it was, though. Taking one quick sweep around his shoulder, Rorschach finally made it to the door.

On the door was a smile. Orange, and despite having been paint, did not show any traces of having dripped down in streaks as it dried. No, this smile was just as perfect as the rest of the ones he had seen on the few outings he had with Ozymandias.

Rorschach hesitated. He didn't expect the media-coined code name Agent Orange to be inside, but at the same time he knew what he would find. Still, there had been so many people in there. Agent Orange was just one man -- how could one man kill so many people? They couldn't all be dead, could they?

Curiosity finally gave in over all else, and Rorschach pushed his way inside. It was cold, colder than it had been merely hours before when he had been driven into a rage. Rorschach crept in, even knowing that he would not find anybody here to discover his trespass. The first thing he noticed when he turned the corner was that the man was still there. The man who had attacked Laurie. Rorschach felt stricken for a moment as he wondered if the man had died from what Rorschach had done to him. In his anger he had wanted the man to die, but Rorschach didn't like the idea of becoming a murderer even to punish for a crime.

It appeared that Rorschach needn't have worried. From where he was standing, he could see that the man had been disemboweled. Rorschach wondered what kind of man would kill like that. He understood rage, and what someone was capable of under its hold. But this cold-blooded killing of an unconscious man, however disgusting a specimen, was something he couldn't wrap his mind around. Stepping over the body, Rorschach made his way into the back. Everywhere he went, in the halls, in rooms, stairwells, there were dead bodies. They were scattered about the floors and against walls as if they had dropped where they had stood. All of them, dead, with precise cuts across their throats and abdomens, almost surgical in nature. All horrifying, all difficult to look away from.

Rorschach began to walk through this grotesque maze without bothering with stealth. He still kept a lookout, of course, but he had a feeling that there really was no need for him to bother at this rate. This building was only a tomb now.

Rorschach looked out the back window, into the previously bustling area that he had spotted the night before when he had been hiding. The men he had seen at sentry and otherwise were all there, dead. Rorschach headed upstairs and found more bodies there, dead. In one room, he found a single male body. He was the only one who seemed to have been specifically placed there, rather than discarded like a doll as the others had been. He was bound and gagged with a horizontal slit across his eyes, and a vertical slit down the middle of his face, only to meet another horizontal slit across his throat. There was no mistaking that it was Underboss. Drained of his body fluids and lying pale and cold and dead on the floor, it was hard to tell, but he still retained all of his clothing and his suit, stained or otherwise, was still a blinding white.

Rorschach didn't understand it. He stepped back, saw the smile. Still orange, slightly above Underboss' head as if to tell him something. That didn't surprise him. What did was the note that was politely tucked behind Underboss' ear. With a trembling hand, Rorschach took it and looked at it in disbelief:

"_MUCH obliged and laughs were had --_

_menace is handled quite well I'm afraid_

_it wasn't as funny as_

_initially_

_imagined._

_Great RESPECT is had for those who fight for JUSTICE_

_accept this gift or not your choice_

_much is said about the nature of man who runs from_

_his true self_"

At the end of the note was a smile, perfectly printed on as if the murderer had used a typewriter, but Rorschach knew better. He knew it was written by hand. But what hand could be so precise and yet possess such convoluted writing? He read over the note again and realized now what the killer was trying to show him.

This man wasn't just murdering people at random; he was punishing them. He thought he was a vigilante, didn't he? It all made sense now. A twisted sort of sense, but Rorschach was starting to understand. But what of Ozymandias? That man was insanely intelligent, and he must have seen in this man's intentions. Why did he have such a hard time finding him? Rorschach left the building. He started to put the note into his jacket, but it seemed dirty, somehow. He was already making his way out to investigate further out back, when he realized it was morning.

Sighing, Rorschach took the back streets to get to his own home, instead. There would be no sleep for him -- he had to go to work. He folded up the paper and left it on the floor under a cabinet. Why he put it there, he had no idea, but it just seemed fitting at the time. He looked at the clock. He had an hour to get to work, and this case was nagging at him. He walked to Captain Metropolis' house. Nelly answered and appeared startled to see him. Rorschach explained that he needed to contact Ozymandias and after much hesitation, Nelly gave him his information. Rorschach returned home and dressed for work. He put Ozymandias' number into his pocket and went on his way. He would have to call him later; he just didn't have the time right now. It wasn't until he was halfway to work that he realized he had promised Laurie to visit her that morning and hadn't.

Walter felt bad. How did he end up forgetting something like that? For a moment he stood still, unable to decide what to do. Eventually the need to go to work prevailed and he showed up, ten minutes early. He bitterly wondered if he would have been able to see Laurie in those ten minutes, but of course, that was unrealistic.

Walter worried all morning as he assisted Mr. Petersen. First there was a man late for a funeral who thought it would be possible to get a custom suit order done in ten minutes. It was ridiculous how some rich folk thought. He ended up buying three suits because he couldn't decide on a fit. A quiet young man came in and had himself measured for a sport coat. A father and son came in, the father wanting his son to have a suit for his new position under him as vice president of a prestigious company. Oh yes, these men were living the good life, all right. At lunch time, Walter used the phone booth across the street to call Ozymandias.

"Hello?"

"Ozymandias?"

"Rorschach?"

"Yes." Walter felt relieved, though at the same time he felt a little ridiculous out in broad daylight calling Ozymandias and using Rorschach's voice.

"Found more of Agent's work," he explained to Ozymandias.

"Oh...oh, that's--"

"Think you know more about him than you let on."

Silence. For a moment Walter thought that Ozymandias had hung up.

"Rorschach, why don't we meet tonight?" Ozymandias asked. "Six o'clock, at the usual place. I think we can discuss this properly if we met in person."

Walter paused, but he heard himself speak as if he were outside looking down from another perspective. It really was a bizarre sensation.

"All right," Walter agreed, then hung up.

Walter came out of the phone booth and looked at a clock in the window of a pawn shop as he passed it. He only had fifteen minutes left for his break; no way would he be able to see Laurie now. And if he had to clean up the shop after it closed, he would barely have enough time to make it to see Ozymandias after work. He could visit Laurie after talking to Ozymandias, of course. He felt like a bastard, though. For a moment he thought he heard a voice, that same voice he used for Rorschach.

_You have to understand your priorities_, it said. Walter hadn't said anything, though, and that voice hadn't just been in his head, had it? _Let me take the lead for once, I'll show you how things can be done_.

"No," said Walter. Leave me alone, he thought.

Walter heard nothing after that, but in his mind he thought there was the faint sound of bitter laughter.

-----

To be continued...


	33. Chapter 33

Ch. 33

Laurie was standing in front of the factory again. Something about this was very familiar. Rorschach was standing next to her. She couldn't see him very well, but she could feel him there. Laurie tried to focus on Rorschach, but he was wavering, as if he was made of cloth. She reached out and felt a coldness go through her hand like a dozen pins. _No touching_, said a voice. Was that Rorschach's voice? He was walking away now. Laurie realized then that this must be a dream. This had all happened before, hadn't it? She wanted to wake up, struggled to even, but when she opened her eyes she was still there, forced to watch as that figure appeared again. Then the smell -- so strange, like sweet paint, she couldn't describe it any other way -- Laurie felt sick this time, rather than just dizzy and weak. The figure disappeared into the night, and Laurie braced herself for what would happen next.

Laurie struggled again, but it was all for nothing. The man appeared, drunk, still overpowered her. Why couldn't she fight back? He half dragged her into the building, cursing her out. She tried to resist, but it felt as if she was paralyzed. All she could so was lay there as he towered over her. She didn't remember him being so big. The man was laughing when the walls behind him began to contort, dark shadows twisting to create horrifying patterns as they came closer. They bore down on the man, and suddenly there was Rorschach again, but jet black and angry, a shadow of movement and speed as he attacked the man. Black bile poured from the man's throat, and where it landed it continued to twist, making Laurie feel sick from looking at it.

_You think you know everything_, Laurie thought. No, that wasn't her -- it was a voice that came from the floors, the walls, all around them. The voice was base and low and grating, like the sound of static heard through a paper cup. With every word the voice vibrated; Laurie could feel it through her body and it terrified her. The man was screaming now, but the voice continued over him. The tone hadn't changed, and the volume was still in that harsh whisper, but Laurie could hear it in her head, her ears, her heart, and through the screaming man, and she cried.

_Filth. Garbage._

_So easy to dispose of when you're nothing but trash--_

"Laurie?"

Laurie opened her eyes to an unbearably bright room. She stared at the woman in front of her and for a moment didn't recognize her. Laurie's breath was ragged, and her heart was racing so fast she didn't think she would be living much longer. Laurie leaned to the side and vomited.

"Oh, Laurie," exclaimed her mother -- of course it was her mother, how did she not know it was her -- as she put her hand on Laurie's cheek. "Are you all right?"

Laurie nodded. Her stomach was still roiling (_like those patterns on the walls and on the floors and on the man_) but her breath was slowing to accompany her heart. She still felt a dull ache in the back of her head, but it wasn't as bad as the night before. Oh, right. She was in the hospital, wasn't she? She remembered now. Rorschach, her father, then of course her mother, and even Dan. Rorschach said he was going to visit in the morning.

"What time is it?" Laurie asked. Somehow, she knew it was late, too late. Wasn't it?

"It's almost noon, dear." Sally said, looking concerned. She gave Laurie one last look before she bent over and started to clean the mess Laurie had made on the floor.

"Where's Rorschach?"

"I don't know," Sally looked up briefly before turning her attention back to her task on hand. "He never showed up."

Laurie rubbed at her eyes, but it was no use.

"He said he would visit in the morning," Laurie sobbed. "Did you drive him away? You told him to go away, didn't you?"

"Laurie," said Sally, looking alarmed. She put her arms around her daughter. "Of course I didn't, why would I do that?"

"Because you hate him," said Laurie, wishing the tears would stop. Why was she crying so much? She felt the sickness threatening to rise up again and had to pull away. "If he was dead you would like it, wouldn't you? If he never turned up and was found dead somewhere, you would laugh, Mother, I know you would!"

"Laurie," Sally exclaimed. That seemed to be the only thing she knew how to say at the moment.

Blake burst into the room.

"What the hell is going on in here?" he asked. For an instant he gave Sally a suspicious look, but he didn't accuse her of anything verbally.

"Laurie is delirious," said Sally. Laurie wanted to tell her that no, she wasn't, she was making perfect sense and she just couldn't stop making sense even if she tried, but all she could do was cry harder. "Do you think it's the concussion?"

Blake shook his head.

"No, some bastard gassed her up with something toxic," he said. He looked worried as he approached the bed. "Laurie, how are you feeling?"

Laurie found herself unable to speak. Instead she held out her hands until Blake hugged her. Compared to her mother's chest, her father's was like hugging a wall, but a great warmth emanated from it. Feeling calmer, Laurie turned her attention to her mother, who was only looking on with a worried expression on her face. Laurie held out one arm to her. Sally hesitated for a moment, then hugged her daughter. The three of them stayed as they were until Laurie felt a little better and pulled away.

"Uh," said Blake, shaking himself away from Sally as Laurie let go of him.

"Well," said Sally, not looking at Blake. "Are you better, Laurie?"

"No," Laurie sighed. She lay back down, wincing as the back of her head was still tender. The pain in her side had grown now, and she wondered if her stitches had burst. "Side hurts."

Sally nodded.

"I guess the medication wore off," she told her. "I'll ask the nurse if they can give you something for the pain."

Sally left the room, and Blake noticed the half-cleaned mess next to the bed and started to clean it himself.

"Dad," said Laurie."Did Rorschach stop by?"

Blake paused for a moment, but didn't look at her.

"No," he said.

"Do you think he's okay?"

"Dunno -- probably."

Laurie frowned. If he was okay, then why didn't he come like he said he would? He must be in some kind of trouble, and it worried her. She would go out to look for him, but she was in no shape to do it, and even if she was, she still didn't know where he lived. She couldn't even check up on him, and that made her angry. For a moment, Laurie was surprised to feel anger again. It seemed that she had been feeling only sorrow for such a long time. But it had only been one night -- to her it was as if she had been in the hospital for days.

Blake straightened up just as Sally came in with a tray.

"Oh, thanks, Eddie," she said, glancing at him.

"No problem," said Blake stiffly as he moved aside to let Sally take his place next to the bed.

"They said I could feed you if you wanted to eat," Sally explained to Laurie. "And they also gave me some pain killers for you to take, but you should probably try to eat something before you take them."

Laurie wanted to refuse. She didn't feel like eating, but at the same time the pain in her side had grown substantially and she wanted it to go away. She let her mother feed her while her father stood in the back looking a little awkward.

"Oh, darn," said Sally, as she looked around. "It looks like they forgot to refill the pitcher; Eddie -- could you get some water for our Laurie?"

"Uh, sure," said Blake, wiping his hands on his shirt as he started to leave. He stopped when a bored looking young man with blond hair and overalls peered inside.

"I got a delivery here," said the man, as he sauntered in. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers, and in the other was a clipboard. He tossed the flowers aside as he looked through the papers. "It's for a miss Laurie She...Shexa..."

"Schexnayder," Sally told him, finally.

Laurie winced at the name, and it seemed Blake did also. Laurie vowed to change her surname as soon as she got the chance. The delivery man shrugged and picked up the bouquet. It was a dozen purple hyacinths.

"Wow, it looks like someone's sorry for something," Sally said, looking amused.

"Who are they from?" Laurie asked, hopefully.

The man blinked and looked down at the clipboard again.

"A mister... S. Miles." The man laughed. "Funny. Gag gift? Anyways, sign please."

"What is this, certified flower delivery?" muttered Blake, as he signed. The delivery man guffawed as if he had said the funniest thing in the world.

Laurie looked down at the flowers as the man left. Her mother leaned forward and pulled out the attached tag.

No words, just a smile.

"Shit," said Blake suddenly. He snatched the flowers away and they seemed to wither under the force of his hand. He stormed out of the room with the bouquet, leaving Sally looking bewildered.

"Eddie," Sally called after him, but he was already gone. "What's going on?"

Laurie took her mother's hand, feeling unbelievably frightened all of a sudden. Blake came back with a scowl on his face.

"Didn't seem to be contaminated or weird in any way," he told them. "But can you believe this creepy shit?"

"Eddie, what happened?" Sally stared up at Blake. Even she was looking a little pale.

"Haven't you been reading the papers?" Blake asked, as he started to pace. "That Agent Orange guy. Smiley face bullshit, stealing my goddamn face and threatening my daughter."

Sally put a hand to her throat in surprise.

"Laurie's in trouble?" she asked, voice rising in alarm.

"No, I don't think..." Blake stopped pacing and shook his head. "No, I heard about this guy. Doesn't sound like the regular shit he pulls. Makes me wonder about the..."

Blake looked thoughtful with his finger on his chin. Then he slowly turned to Laurie. His expression was neutral, but there was something about the way he was holding himself that made Laurie nervous.

"Laurie," Blake asked, "Did Rorschach go back to that factory last night?"

"Factory?" Laurie said. Suddenly her mind drew a blank.

"Yes -- he told me you were attacked at a factory. Do you know where?"

"Oh, uhm..." Laurie looked around. "I had a map in the pocket of my costume..."

"All right," said Blake. "I need to go check on something. I'll be back later."

"Eddie..." Sally started to say, but Blake held up his hand.

"Just watch her, all right?" Blake asked. Then he turned and left.

Sally paused before she turned to Laurie.

"Do you want to eat some more of your lunch?" Sally asked.

Laurie shook her head. She was certain that small serving of lunch she had managed to consume would be the last thing she ate that day. Sally nodded and stood up to get Laurie her water. Laurie bit her lip and turned her head towards the window, feeling miserable.

The afternoon seemed to crawl by. Throughout the day, Laurie received pink tulips from Nelly, daisies from Hollis, and even pansies from Dan. The flowers around her made the room look bright and cheery, but Laurie did not find joy in seeing them. She was too busy worrying about Walter. Her father returned in the early evening. He wouldn't tell her what he found, but he assured her that he hadn't seen Rorschach. Laurie watched him speak to her mother quietly and wondered why Rorschach couldn't just give her a simple phone call to let her know he was busy, at least, if that was just the case. If he was busy, at least Walter could--

Laurie shook her head. She didn't know why she had just thought of them as two people. But they were different, weren't they? Rorschach and Walter. As soon as the mask went on, his demeanor changed. Laurie could bet that Walter hadn't gone to sleep last night. He always went a little strange when he didn't sleep. No, that wasn't it. He always went strange when he was in costume for too long.

Laurie tried to think about Rorschach, Walter, as much as she could, but she found it hard with her mother there attempting conversation. Late that evening, a nurse stuck her head in.

"A visitor here to see you," she said, to Laurie.

Sally looked up, as did Laurie. Laurie dared to hope, but at the same time had a feeling that Walter wouldn't come in the normal way.

"Send them in please," Laurie said, feeling quite weary. If it wasn't Walter she was just going to sleep.

A handsome young man entered, and Laurie wondered for a moment if he had the wrong room. Sally looked from Laurie to the man, then to Laurie again. The man held out a bouquet of yellow roses in front of him, and looked almost apologetic. He had a visitor's badge on his chest.

"I apologize if this is confusing--" said the young man. Laurie recognized him as soon as he spoke.

"Ozymandias," said Laurie, smiling in spite of herself.

"Yes," he said, smiling back at her as he approached. Up close and out of costume, he looked quite young, but he also looked drained of life, as if he hadn't slept in days. "I was told you were in the hospital, and I couldn't resist visiting you."

"That's very kind of you," said Sally. She turned to Laurie. "And he's out of costume, too. Isn't that nice?"

Laurie sighed and shook her head. Her mother was relentless.

"I might have shown up in costume," said Ozymandias, shrugging, "If I knew that I would be able to get past security."

Ozymandias handed the bouquet to Laurie.

"My name is Adrian, by the way," he said. He gave her another smile.

"Nice to meet you," said Laurie, letting her mother take the flowers out of her hands. "How did you know I was here?"

"Rorschach told me," said Adrian.

"Rorschach?" Laurie sat up, ignoring the throbbing pain in her side that followed. "Is he all right? Where did you see him?"

Adrian looked taken aback.

"Did he not visit you?" he said, brow furrowing. "I met with him earlier this evening, to talk business, of course. He mentioned you in passing, but I assumed he would have come here afterwards."

"No, he didn't," said Laurie. She was feeling angry again. It wasn't just the fact that Rorschach hadn't visited her, even though he had time to visit Ozymandias, but it was the way that she seemed to have been mentioned so casually. Here she had been worried sick about him, and he had been out running around doing god-knows-what.

Disappointment seemed to show in Adrian's face, but he said nothing; just nodded.

"Well, I... I'm sure he will turn up at some point," he said, almost to himself. "I hope."

Adrian turned and looked as if he was going to speak of something else, but he smiled instead and adjusted his collar as if he were wearing a suit and about to put on his tie.

"I hope you recover soon, Miss Laurie," he told her.

"Thank you, err, Adrian," said Laurie.

Adrian nodded first to her, then Sally before he left the room.

"He's quite a nice young gentleman, isn't he?" Sally asked Laurie. "You know--"

"Good night, Mother," said Laurie.

"Laurie--"

Laurie turned away from her mother. Fortunately her mother was sitting next to Laurie's bad side, so she was able to do this without hurting herself. Sally took the hint and left the room after turning off the light.

Laurie blinked, hoping that those confounded tears would come back and let her cry it out, at least. But nothing. Laurie sighed and lay on her back again and stared at the ceiling; the way the shadows played against the stark white top of the room reminded her of Rorschach's mask. Usually this might have been a comforting thing to see, but instead it spooked Laurie and gave her chills. Oh, of course, the nightmare.

Laurie waited for half an hour, wondering if Rorschach would somehow come in through the window or anything, now that her mother was gone. Not a trace. She eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

-----

To be continued...


	34. Chapter 34

Ch. 34

Walter returned to work after calling Ozymandias. The rest of the day seemed to move at a snail's pace, and Walter had to struggle to stay awake. He caught himself nodding off at some point, and was grateful for Mr. Petersen's age -- the old man was fast asleep in the corner. Of course, this didn't let Walter off the hook; he couldn't just drop off to sleep because his employer was napping. In fact, he would have to remain even more alert now to make sure the customers were tended to. Walter thought about Laurie. Worried would be the better word, actually. He worried about her. It wasn't that he didn't think she would be fine physically; she would be safe with her parents with her. No, he was worried about his promise to see her and how she must think that he was in some sort of trouble or assume he didn't deem her important enough to bother with.

_Well, if she was, you would have visited her_.

"You're the one who wanted to investigate this case," Walter said aloud, before he realized he had spoken. He looked over at Mr. Petersen, who was still snoring away.

Walter paused for a moment, but the voice didn't come back. Relaxing a little, he laughed at himself. He was starting to hallucinate from his lack of sleep. He was also not thinking clearly, either, he realized. He should have called the hospital to leave Laurie a message when he had gone out to call Ozymandias. That seemed so obvious to him now he felt very stupid for not thinking of it at the time. No, he just needed sleep, that was all. Maybe after he saw Ozymandias, he would go visit Laurie at the hospital, then he would just call it an early night.

But this Agent Orange was out there, being his sick self, killing more people -- maybe even this very instant. Whatever Ozymandias' excuse for letting the maniac run around like he did, Walter couldn't have any of it. There was a big part of himself that wanted to see this Agent Orange stopped, even if there was a small -- very small -- part of him that said it was all right; he was only killing criminals, wasn't he?

Walter was shocked. He shouldn't be thinking like this. Those men, the dead men -- Underboss, the others -- they dealt drugs, and that was a criminal offense for sure, but they didn't deserve death. He couldn't imagine anything that would warrant such a harsh response. He wasn't against the death penalty for extreme cases, but when it came to laying down the law in such a serious manner, Walter felt such cruel methods of punishment were unnecessary.

_You have to admit that sometimes killing is the only way to effectively stop those who won't hesitate for anything else. _True, but that should only be a last resort -- killing to protect yourself, basically -- anything else should be taken into the law's hands. _You've seen the law, how corrupt the system is. So many criminals go away unpunished, only to walk the streets and start over. _We are supposed to aid this city. We do things that are beyond the police, do the things that they can't themselves because of their restraint. We don't have to go anywhere beyond that.

Walter jolted awake. He had been hovering around the brink of slumber, snapped out when a customer entered the shop. Walter stood up to attend to him. Mr. Petersen was still asleep in his seat in the corner. Walter saw him and envied him for a moment.

After the shop was closed, Mr. Petersen complained of arthritis and left Walter to clean up. By the time he was done, he was so late he had to run home to change, then run out again in order to meet with Ozymandias in time.

Rorschach arrived at the meeting place five minutes late, but there was no sign of Ozymandias. Instead, there was a man standing in a long coat with his hands in his pockets. Rorschach eyed him suspiciously for a moment before he realized that this _was_ Ozymandias.

"Oh, hello," said Ozymandias, as Rorschach approached him. He was standing as if he was extremely cold.

"No costume?" asked Rorschach.

Ozymandias looked pained. Close up, he looked as if he hadn't had any decent amount of sleep for a long time.

"I think it's better this way," Ozymandias told him.

"You haven't quit, have you?" Rorschach asked him in a rough tone.

Ozymandias seemed surprised at that question. He stared at Rorschach for a long while before answering.

"No," he said finally. "I don't believe I have."

"Then what is this?"

"It's hard to explain, just...what do you need to know?"

Rorschach contemplated grilling the man further, but he decided against it. The case was more important, anyway. Fellow crime fighter or not, he didn't know this man very well, and under normal circumstances, he wouldn't find much to talk to him about.

"Why have you stopped investigating?" Rorschach asked.

"It's, difficult, really," Ozymandias said, wincing. "I shall have to set aside my pride and admit that I couldn't handle the case any further."

Rorschach watched Ozymandias as he spoke. The man looked twitchy and paranoid as he was currently, but when he talked his eyes shifted subtly and Rorschach knew he was hiding something.

"Let me ask you this," said Ozymandias, "Why are you going after this man?"

"He's a murderer that should be stopped."

"And do you understand his motivations for murder?"

"Yes, but still bad."

"But don't you feel that him targeting the very people we are fighting against justifies his murders just a little?"

Rorschach hesitated. There was something twisting inside him, and he could feel his mask moving. Strange, he had never been able to feel it before, but now there it was, shifting across his face and thoroughly bothering him. For a moment he contemplated tossing it off, call it a day, sleep and not wake up for a few days until all this had died down. Was it wrong that what Ozymandias had said rang some form of truth in him?

"You met him, haven't you," Rorschach observed. It wasn't really a question.

"Yes," said Ozymandias, looking relieved, somehow. "Yes, I have."

"Produced a convincing argument, I suppose."

"Very convincing."

"You need to find him and stop him."

"I... I can't." Ozymandias had his eyes closed.

Rorschach almost grabbed him by the collar and flung him against the wall. No, this was a man of words. Reason would work better than force. Rorschach would lead by example.

"Have notes?" Rorschach asked.

"Yes -- yes, I do -- but not with me, I'm afraid."

"Give me your notes."

"Are you really considering--"

"Yes."

Ozymandias studied him for a moment.

"All right," he said, finally. He took his hand out from his pocket; in it was a key. "Follow me, then."

Rorschach was pretty sure he knew where Ozymandias was taking him, but he was nonetheless surprised when they arrived at his apartment. Ozymandias' apartment was just as small and unappealing as Rorschach's was. Rorschach wondered about the man who felt no shame in showing a virtual stranger a place such as this. Inside, the apartment seemed humble, and on second thought it didn't seem so bad. Just sterile-looking, even for a place that existed in a dank neighborhood. Ozymandias left Rorschach hovering near the doorway as he stepped into another room.

"Here we are," said Ozymandias, as he re-emerged holding a folder. "That's all I have."

Rorschach nodded as he flipped through the files. Papers, hundreds, most of them with Ozymandias' neat handwriting, and some pictures; articles.

"It's kind of funny really," Ozymandias said, his eyes never moving from Rorschach. "There was a time when I would have jumped at the chance for you to help me with this case. Now I wonder if I should even pass it on to you."

"He's just a man. Men like him should be stopped."

"Are you taking your partner with you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"In the hospital."

Ozymandias looked mildly alarmed. Rorschach realized it was the most emotion he had seen him convey.

"What happened?"

"She was stabbed last night. At the general hospital now."

"I'm sorry -- you must be worried."

"Yes." Rorschach paused. "I found a murder scene. Killer Agent. Got Underboss."

Ozymandias was silent. His face went ghostly pale as he looked up at Rorschach with haunted eyes.

"He gave you a note, didn't he?" Ozymandias said, coming closer.

"Yes."

"God," Ozymandias turned away, and all Rorschach could see was his profile. When he turned back, his eyes seemed wide with a near-madness that disturbed Rorschach. "You need to stop."

"Can't."

"No -- don't you see? He wants you to find him; thinks this is some kind of twisted game. You have to stop playing it."

"Not playing a game, just doing what's right."

Ozymandias gave an aggravated sigh and started to pace the room.

"He's testing us, all of us, having so much fun," said Ozymandias, nearly raving in this state. "Thinks he'll gain something out of manipulating us, doing this, all this and strangely enough it all makes sense."

"You're capable of defending your own. How did you not apprehend a man like that?"

Ozymandias shook his head and gave no answer.

"Maybe it's better to just for once let the police handle something like this," Ozymandias muttered.

"We should all join the police force then," Rorschach joked.

"Wouldn't that be a sight," said Ozymandias, though he rewarded Rorschach with a bitter laugh.

Rorschach hovered for a moment, not entirely sure what to do. Then he nodded to Ozymandias and left without another word.

The outside air seemed cool and fresh and invigorating after the stench in Ozymandias' apartment. It wasn't any physical smell, but a strange mixture of fear and repressed anger. Whatever it was that the murderer had done to Ozymandias, it scared him to no extent and also angered him beyond any emotion Rorschach would expect from the man. Rorschach had to drag himself from his train of thoughts to direct his focus on visiting Laurie. He crouched outside the hospital building, wondering if he could possibly scale it. He could -- though with some difficulty. He briefly cursed Ozymandias and his fancy grappling hook and had a very odd and brief idea of stealing it from him. He pushed that thought away and climbed to the third floor, to where Laurie's room had been. He walked on a ledge and peered around a window. Inside was an old man with a nurse checking over him. Rorschach crept past while avoiding detection. He looked in another window, where a man lay in bed with what looked like his family around him. They were too busy talking to one another to notice him. Rorschach finally reached Laurie's window and looked inside. Her damn mother was there, of course. Rorschach cursed inwardly to himself and waited more then half an hour for her to leave before he gave up. At some point he had almost decided on storming in, but he imagined Laurie would have an angry outburst at him not visiting her in the morning as he had promised, and it made him cringe to think of Sally Jupiter watching over this with a smirk on her face.

Rorschach made a note to stop by at a later time and made his slow way back down. He returned to his apartment and contemplated sleep, but no, Agent Orange was out there -- why had they given him that name again? He had to be found. If he was indeed playing a game and trying to getting his attention, then it should be relatively easy to get to him.

Rorschach sat at the table and didn't even bother to take off his mask, though it bothered him. Working was easier this way. He started reading through the papers that Ozymandias had compiled. Ozymandias' notes were insightful and observant, though at times they went on for far too long, and even bordered on becoming philosophical musings as Ozymandias detailed his theories behind the murderer. Initial notes for motives and studies of his method of killing followed. At some point Rorschach came across a note that was in a different hand. He recognized it -- it was the Agent's scrawl for sure. Rorschach recalled Ozymandias' question to him (_He gave you a note, didn't he?_) and realized that this was a note Ozymandias himself had received from the man:

"_Midnight neighbors similar DESIRES_

_in finding EVIL to punish might I show you_

_something_

_exceptional in NATURE ? it is a difficult process to_

_beat _

_the longing and desire to_

_do _

_the RIGHT THING and I beg to question _

_will morals conquer necessity_"

Another polite smile at the end. Rorschach shook his head and folded the note and left it under his cabinet with the first. He sat back down and continued to read again. Ozymandias' notes seemed to get choppier at the end, as if he had been rushing to finish, though if he had come to any conclusion he never wrote it down. After the notes came newspaper articles, and Rorschach read them as part of his duty more than anything else. He doubted he would find anything in them, and he didn't. Nothing he didn't know already, anyway. It was close to midnight when he finished with Ozymandias' file. Rorschach stood up and wondered if he should go to bed. He willed himself to go on instead, and went out into the night.

Rorschach started to wander, though in his mind he had some purpose. He revisited the locations of the murders, trying to see through the killer's eyes and not really liking what he saw.

Rorschach found himself in a residential area, a few blocks from where a mafia don had been murdered in his home. He was tired. His mind was racing with facts and details, but his body was really starting to wind down. He realized he had been awake for nearly forty eight hours. _So weak._

"No," he said, and shook his head a little. "Just tired."

Yes, he was so tired. He turned his head and paused. He was in a garden, and in it were many bushes, one of them holding a single rose. Rorschach approached it. Even in the moonlight it was a brilliant red, and very deep in bloom. He ran his gloved hand over the petals, and the water droplets that had been resting on the surface trickled down into inner grooves. Rorschach watched the glistening drops for a long while in pain before he finally registered it. It must be because he was tired. Looking around, he reached up and cut the rose at the stem and pocketed it. He looked around, feeling utterly exhausted. He laughed to himself as he imagined lying right down on the ground where he had been standing and going to sleep in the street like some hobo. No, he should push forward; it was no big deal, just sleep.

Rorschach allowed himself to think about Laurie again. Briefly he wondered how angry she was with him, and if she hated him now. Part of him wanted her to hate him so he could beg for forgiveness and see if she would take him back. Another part of him panicked at the thought and that hurried him along back to the hospital, where he stood and stared up at the building for a long time. It was around three in the morning now. Laurie wouldn't be awake. But if he went home and went to sleep, he might not wake up in time to see her before he went to work. He climbed the walls again, though this time the windows were dark as he sneaked past them. He climbed into Laurie's window, looking around the room first to make sure her mother hadn't decide to spend the night next to her daughter. Laurie was alone, and he felt relieved.

Laurie was fast asleep when he approached her. He watched her for a moment, feeling pained again. He wished that he could stay here with her so she would wake up and find him there and he could tell her he hadn't forgotten about her. There was just something important -- very important -- that needed to be done.

Rorschach took the rose out of his pocket and looked at it carefully. It wasn't damaged, though the dew was gone from it now. He set the flower down carefully next to the bedside table and turned to leave. He was halfway out the window when he heard Laurie gasp.

Rorschach turned. In the moonlight he could see Laurie staring at him, eyes wide with fear.

"Rorschach?" she said, looking instantly relieved.

Feeling a little ashamed, Rorschach stepped closer.

"Yes," he said.

"Rorschach, why didn't you come to see me?" asked Laurie. "I thought you were hurt or in some kind of trouble."

Rorschach stepped even closer.

"I was investigating the killer Agent case," he told her.

"You could have called," she said, softly. Rorschach noticed that she didn't even seem angry; just very disappointed.

Rorschach came to her bed. He felt his vision swim, and knew it was the damn mask. It seemed to be constricting him, somehow, suffocating him. It made it hard for him to think. He took off his hat and set it on the bedside table on top of the rose. The mask, however, he tossed aside onto the floor next to him. See how you like it, he thought.

"I'm sorry," Walter told Laurie.

Laurie frowned a little.

"Ozymandias came by for a visit," she told him. "He even said you mentioned me. Couldn't you stop by, at least, before you went out for the night?"

"I had to look into the case," Walter explained. The words sounded hollow when he said them. Her bed looked very inviting from where he was standing, so he climbed into it.

"You promised."

"I'm sorry, very sorry." Walter said. His face was close to hers so he kissed her. "Please forgive me."

If Laurie had given him a reply, he didn't hear it. He had only meant to rest for a moment, but he fell asleep.

-----

To be continued...

-----

Author's Note: Thanks again, Vaudeville! Your fluff ideas really help this story from going down into a pit of angst and depression.


	35. Chapter 35

Ch. 35

Laurie woke up in the hospital room to find her head and side injuries still present, but she was happy. She had been forced awake when her pain killers wore off and was pleasantly surprised to find Walter still there. At first, she didn't want to stare, but she just couldn't resist when he was so still, and so close to her. She had been watching him for nearly half an hour with a smile on her face. Asleep with his eyes closed and his long lashes showing, he looked less cocky and more angelic. Laurie studied his features to her heart's content. She liked the way his mouth worked with his cheekbones to make it look like he was always hiding a smile. His usually expressive eyebrows where at their resting state and gave his face a gentle appearance. She also liked his red hair, but she had already known that. Looking at him now, she just couldn't stay angry at him. But he wasn't truly off the hook yet. She still wanted to hear him explain himself, especially about this Agent Orange business. What was this killer doing that so enraptured everyone, including Rorschach?

"Why are you looking at me?" Walter murmured, though his eyes were still closed.

Laurie answered him with a kiss. She had missed him dearly in the past few days. Raising her hand to place it against the side of his face, she wished they could have more time to spend together. When Laurie pulled away, his eyes were open again. They looked tired, but still bright, somehow. He smiled at her for a moment, and seemed to study her. She was disappointed when he sat up. The sun was already rising and casting a red glow into the room. Walter stretched as he slid off the bed and stood.

"Walter, are you leaving already?" Laurie asked.

"I need to go to work," he told her. "And avoid your mother."

"She won't come in at this hour."

Walter gave her a 'yeah right' look and turned. He stooped down to pick his mask up off the floor. He paused for a moment and seemed to regard it with some amount of disgust.

"What's the matter?" Laurie asked. Seeing him here in her hospital room made her feel elated. She wished she could jump out of bed so she could kiss him again. Given her present physical state, however, that would be an unwise decision.

Walter shook his head and gave her a level look. Then he started to put his mask back on.

"Wait--" said Laurie, sitting up suddenly. She winced as a burning pain shot up her side.

Walter came back to her, looking concerned.

"Are you all right?" he asked her.

"I don't know, I didn't tear up the stitches, did I?" Laurie asked. "I'm so paranoid about that."

Laurie lifted up her gown to look. Walter took a step back and swallowed a little.

"I think it's okay," said Laurie, smiling at him as she put the garment back in place. Then she frowned. "Walter? You look spooked."

Walter shook his head. Laurie held out her arms and he obediently approached her to hug her. Walter tried to pull away after a long moment. Laurie didn't let him off that easily, however. She pulled him closer by his scarf and kissed him again. He struggled a little as if to resist, then gave in and began kissing her in return. It was a little bit awkward, seeing as she was still injured and he was twisting away to avoid grazing against her wound, but Laurie didn't mind. She pressed against Walter, wishing he wasn't wearing so many layers so she could feel his body's definitions more properly.

Laurie gave Walter a small kiss on the corner of his mouth as he let up. He was practically smirking at her as he straightened himself. Laurie thought he might try to leave again, but instead he started to look about the room while strutting as if he owned the place. Walter regarded most of the things in the room with disinterest, until he spotted the corner shelf where Sally had placed all of Laurie's flowers. Walter looked annoyed. He glanced at Laurie, then at the flowers, then walked up as if intending to throw them all out. Instead he poked each of them in turn.

"Who are these from?" he asked her, pointing to a bouquet of white roses.

"From my mother," said Laurie.

"And these?" he pointed at the daisies.

"Hollis."

"These?" now he was regarding the tulips.

"Nelly." Laurie was raising her eyebrow at him now, but he waved his hand at her as if to silence her.

"These." He pointed at the pansies.

"Walter--"

"Who are they from?"

"They're from Dan."

Walter nodded at her quite coolly at that.

"Mm-hmm," he told her.

"What?" asked Laurie. She laughed anyway.

"I see."

"You see what?"

"Who are these from?" He pointed at the remaining roses.

"From Ozymandias. Walter--"

"I see," said Walter again. "I see I see."

"You see what?" Laurie sat up again.

"You have quite a few male admirers."

"What?" Laurie laughed again. "Seriously?"

"Yes. Yes, yes."

"Nelly isn't like that -- and you yourself said Ozymandias wasn't either."

"Yes, but Dan and Hollis?"

"Oh, Walter, come on -- Hollis? And Dan is Dan."

"Dan has a thing for you."

Laurie giggled at that.

"Dan?" Laurie laughed harder at the idea. "Oh, no!"

"Oh, yes."

Walter was looking down his nose at her, and Laurie burst into peals of laughter. After recovering finally, she glanced up to find that he was smiling. He came towards her and kissed her. Gently at first, but then a little more forcefully, possessively even. Laurie didn't mind that one bit.

"I need to go," Walter said to her as he kissed her ear, then her neck.

"No you don't," she said, grabbing onto him. "You're staying right here."

"No."

"Yes."

They kissed some more, and Laurie was pretty certain he had grazed his hand on her bare thigh at some point. When they broke away again, Walter's face was flushed, and his hair was standing on end. Out of breath, Laurie had to gather herself to laugh as she ran her hand through his hair to smooth it down. He kissed her wrist.

"You're so sweet like this Walter," Laurie pouted. "It's a shame to see you running off to be Rorschach and leaving me here."

Walter gave her an odd look. He seemed to be at the point of realizing something, when he shook his head.

"I'll be back later tonight," he assured her.

"Yes, I'm sure," she sighed.

"I will," he said, looking strangely hurt.

"Well, all right then," said Laurie. She decided that she would pitch a fit if he bailed on her again, but as for now he was quite forgiven in her book.

Walter smiled and started to put his mask back on, but instead he leaned in to kiss her again. Laurie pulled him down to her and he obliged. She was just deepening the kiss when Walter made a sound and ended it. His breath was ragged and his eyes were very much alive when he looked at her. Walter kissed her again, just a peck as if in apology, and stood up to put on his mask. Sally entered. Laurie and Walter froze.

"Well," said Sally, after hesitating for only a fraction of a second, "Look who finally came to visit."

"Uh, hi Mom," said Laurie.

"Are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?" Sally asked her. "Seeing as he has finally found some sense to reveal himself and all."

Laurie blushed but found herself unable to speak. She wondered if what she and Walter had been doing was obvious to her mother.

"Walter," he said.

"Ah, he speaks," said Sally. "Nice to meet you, Walter. You really should visit more often. My Laurie gets quite upset when you're not around."

Walter nodded. He put the mask into his pocket, turned and took his hat from the table and started to climb out the window.

"Now look here young man," said Sally, grabbing his shoulder. Walter looked surprised. "If you're going to come breezing in and out of here, the least you can do is go through the door like a normal human being."

Walter looked at the door, then at the window. Then he straightened and gave Sally a defiant look before he turned and climbed out the window.

"Well, I never," said Sally, with her hands on her hips as she watched Walter disappear. She turned to smile at Laurie. "He's cute, isn't he?"

Laurie couldn't help but laugh at that. Her mother did, too. Blake walked in.

"Hey, share the cheer," he said, smiling.

"Oh, Laurie's foxy little man was in here before he scampered off into the rising sun," said Sally, tapping Blake playfully on the shoulder.

Blake looked at his shoulder, then at Sally with interest.

"Yeah? Is he coming back this time?" he asked.

"I hope so," said Sally, looking at Laurie and smiling at her.

Laurie just smiled back, feeling relieved that her mother was actually starting to loosen up. She wondered how Sally had gotten into such a good mood -- was it because of her accident? Had her father spoken to her? Or was it because she had stopped drinking?

"How did you guys get together?" Laurie asked, suddenly. "You know, to have me."

Blake almost seemed to fall over at that.

"Woah, woah, what the hey," he said, but he laughed.

"Laurie," said Sally, softly. Laurie was surprised to find her mother blushing. "What a question to ask."

"Fine, don't tell me," said Laurie, folding her arms. But she smiled. Maybe she would ask her mother later, when they were alone.

Blake crossed the room and Laurie watched him with mild interest. Her father reached out towards the bedside table and picked up a red rose.

"Oh," said Laurie, surprised.

Blake raised his eyebrow and smiled at her. He carefully handed her the rose, which Laurie took gingerly between her fingers to avoid the thorns. Even relatively close to her face, she could smell the fresh scent of the flower and it made her face flush at the sight of it. It was beautiful. Not just because it was a magnificent specimen, but because it was from Walter.

"Here, why don't I find you a vase for that," said Sally, humming to herself as she left the room.

Laurie watched her mother leave with a smile. Walter would like that, she thought. Sally hadn't bothered to do this for any of the other flowers. Her mother came back five minutes later with a vase full of water and set it on the table close to Laurie. Laurie put the rose inside and looked at it.

It wasn't Walter himself, but it would have to do until she saw him again that evening. She was looking forward to it.

-----

To be continued...


	36. Chapter 36

Ch. 36

Walter felt better with each step he took back to his house. He practically flung his costume off to rush to the shower. When he came out dressed for work, he was in a good mood. It really did him good to see Laurie -- why had he avoided her to begin with? He couldn't remember anymore, really. Singing, he permitted himself breakfast before he walked slowly to work. It was good to not have to rush into anything, and oh -- even better, today was Saturday. That meant he had the day off tomorrow, and he had a pretty good idea of what he wanted to spend his day doing.

Walter busied himself with thoughts of Laurie that morning as he handled customers and aided Mr. Petersen. In fact, Agent Orange was so far gone out of his mind, all he could think about were his plans for a nice evening talking to Laurie. Now that her mother knew and she didn't actually seem to care as much about him dating her daughter -- as she initially seemed to have been -- he could actually see her without hesitation. It really was a liberating feeling.

At noon, Walter went to the diner across the street and sat down at a booth to order lunch. He was scanning the menu, not really reading it because he was too busy thinking about other things. A shadow passed over him and when he looked up, there was a blond man sitting across from him at his table. His green eyes were staring out at him and his mouth had the slightest hint of a smile. Walter thought he had seen the man before, and the first person he thought of was Ozymandias. But no, Ozymandias didn't have eyes like that.

Oh, right, the man who came to order the sport coat from the store. He remembered now. But looking at him, Walter knew the man wasn't here to talk about garments. In fact, Walter was pretty certain he knew what the man was here to talk about.

"Agent Orange," said Walter curtly, as if he had been expecting him.

"Rorschach," said the Agent, nodding to him. Walter wasn't surprised.

"Here on your lunch break?" asked Walter.

The Agent laughed heartily, though his eyes displayed no warmth.

"Oh, you are quite clever, aren't you? Very good with words, dry sense of humor. Very efficient at dealing out the punches, great strategist and yet two sides of yourself war against another. Really, there is nothing efficient about that. How can there be when you truly can't decide on what you want?"

The words seemed to tumble out of the Agent's mouth as if he were reciting a speech he had memorized. His eyes were still fixed on Walter, and he smiled again, courteously, a smile so much like the ones he left at all his crime scenes. The Agent had such an intriguing face, a face that had something wrong with it, though at first glance he was normal; too normal, in fact. No, his face was fine -- really did remind Walter of Ozymandias -- but it was his eyes that gave him the creeps. There was something missing behind them, as if he was cold inside, only calculating and never truly feeling.

"Why did you attack Nightshade?" Walter asked him.

"Oh, Rorschach, shame on you and shame on me," said the man, shifting in his seat. "I didn't mean to do that -- you know I didn't -- I didn't attack her at all, in fact. She just got in the way, is all. Needed her unconscious, but didn't expect the man to get in the way. No matter, I got rid of him for you, didn't I? I hoped that she would accept my apology as I am really quite sorry in regards to the matter. I do not wish to harm my colleagues in any way."

The Agent did not look at all remorseful as he said these words.

"What are you doing here?" asked Walter.

"I came by to see you -- isn't that what you wanted? You _were_ looking for me, were you not?"

"Yes."

"Think you can catch me, right?"

"Eventually."

"I'm sure. But until then, we'll have so much fun, won't we?"

"Why are you doing this?"

The Agent paused, as if he hadn't expected Walter to ask that question, or at least in the way he did. Walter had asked with interest, in fact. No, it wasn't Walter, but someone else outside of him that was trying so hard to get in. Walter didn't like that. He was awake now, more on guard, and this time he had caught it. He had remembered what Laurie had said to him, and he had been watching this time.

"I told you," said the Agent in a voice that suggested that he was quite tired of Walter's attitude. "I'm working the same way as you lot are, fighting crime, making the world a better place, one step at a time. It's a small world after all."

He sang out the last line in monotonous notes, smiling at Walter and cocking his head as if he were making a joke, but those eyes were still cold and emotionless.

"I have so much fun here," the Agent said, looking around. He was practically vibrating, and his leg was moving up and down in a nervous gesture that made the table move. "Here in this city. See, I was in California before this."

The Agent paused as if to wait for Walter to say something, but Walter was silent, so he continued.

"Was in California -- in fact, was working to make a name for myself. Killed a girl, even. Bates. Have you heard of her? Had everything worked out. All my ducks in order. Then I kept reading about the Crimebusters and you got me so keen on the idea I just couldn't resist."

The Agent held out his hands and smiled at Walter.

"Left the place, came here with a new identity; wanted to join the family. Really wanted to meet the Comedian more than anything. You know how funny he is? Wish I could be more like him one day, but he has a knack for insight that I just don't have. Can't relate to people -- me, not him -- but he can; he's all alone but he makes himself that way. Not born into it like I was, though it took me a while to realize I was different. See?"

The Agent picked up the salt shaker and started to twirl it around the back of his hand.

"Magic," said the Agent, more amused by what he said than by what he was doing. "Really like the Comedian. He makes me laugh. So I thought I'd get a laugh too. Hope he isn't sore about me stealing his image, don't mean to offend -- just a tribute. Just a nod at the genius."

"What did you do to Ozymandias?" Walter asked, finally.

"Oh, him," said the Agent, face distorting in disgust. His eyes were as cold as ever. "Tried to make him see things my way. He actually attacked me, can you believe it? I showed him, though. In the end, he agreed with me; the hypocrite. Sometimes you need a little aid when you don't think you can win by force. Me? I'm no Comedian. Can't defend myself against anything. Know my chemicals though, and know what makes people do things when given the right amount. No offense to your girlfriend, really."

Walter stiffened, a cold feeling rising up in him. Agent Orange knew too much about him, too much about him and Laurie.

"What do you want with me?" Walter asked.

"Don't look at me like that," said the Agent, laughing. "I know I don't know some things but I know that look and I haven't done anything that warranted that look."

Walter said nothing.

"I want to join the Crimebusters," the Agent said, simply.

"Take it up with Metropolis," Walter muttered.

"Want to ask a more respectable member."

"No."

Agent Orange stared at Walter as if he had just spoken in a foreign language. He sighed deeply and appeared quite resigned.

"Very well. Then let the game of wits begin."

"What?" Walter squinted at Agent Orange, hoping by doing this he would make more sense, somehow.

"I'm going to kill more people, Rorschach," said the Agent. "And if you want to stop me, you're going to have to find me, and on my terms, my turf."

"What makes you think I can't just turn you in right now?" asked Walter.

Agent Orange laughed.

"In broad daylight?" he asked, incredulously. "What will you do -- attack me? Tell everyone, look here, it's the Agent Orange, just like you see in the papers. Who will believe you? Nobody. In the end, you will be the one who gets in trouble."

_He's right, you know. Better to play along and catch him at his own game. We'll find him; we know how he works now. _Shut up -- just, shut up. I don't need your help, whether you think so or not. _Fine by me, but when you need me -- really need me, you'll know better than to talk. You'll see, one day you will find that my way is the only way to do things_.

No. Walter had his own way too.

"You're a reasonable man," said the Agent. "Not as reasonable as Ozymandias, but you will have to do."

Walter studied Agent Orange's face. He knew how he looked like now. Who looked more sincere? Him? Or the Agent? He calculated their features in his mind, trying to determine which one of them looked less imposing. Agent Orange appeared a bit more easy going, but Walter was still dressed for work and looked respectable.

"Hope you catch me soon, Rorschach," the Agent laughed. "Otherwise you're not going to have much crime left to fight."

Walter felt something stir in him and he fought against it. It made him angry.

"You think you have everything figured out," Walter said, in a cold tone to match the Agent's eyes. "But I'm not Rorschach."

Agent Orange's face twisted into a confused grimace.

"I'm Walter." Walter stood up. "And I don't take shit from anybody. Pardon my _French_, Mr. Smiley Face."

"What are you--" said the Agent, as Walter slipped around the table and put his hands on him. "What?"

Walter pulled Agent Orange roughly out of the booth and twisted his arms behind him.

"Help!" shouted the Agent. "Murder!"

Everyone was looking at him; at them. Walter nodded to some people and looked them in the eyes.

"He's causing trouble," he told them with as much sincerity as possible. It helped that he was right; just putting it in simple terms, really. Someone nodded, most resumed eating again.

Walter shoved Agent Orange as he ushered him along. He took him outside, where he searched him for anything lethal. Of course he wasn't armed -- he hadn't been expecting a confrontation. The Agent was arrogant, just as Ozymandias had been. The Agent protested and laughed at the same time.

"What are you going to do?" he asked through short bursts of laughter. "Take me to the police station? They'll lock you up with me for being crazy, mister!"

"Shut up," Walter told him.

Agent Orange was surprisingly compliant. Walter marched him through the streets to a familiar house. Walter pushed Agent Orange ahead of him and knocked on the door.

Hollis answered, and looked quite surprised.

"Yes?" he asked Walter uncertainly.

"I found Agent Orange," Walter told him. "Need to arrest him."

"Well, I..." Hollis started to laugh nervously, thinking it was a joke.

"This is Rorschach," Walter said. He had to use Rorschach's voice and he cringed to do it, but it got the message across.

"Oh," Hollis' eyes widened. "But I'm retired."

"Call your friends -- you should know someone on the force that can help. You said so yourself at the dinner, talking to Dan."

"I... all right." Hollis nodded and squinted at Agent Orange. "Are you sure it's him, though?"

"He confessed."

"Oh, Nite Owl, always to the rescue, but always thinking the best about others first," said the Agent. "Read your book, very interesting."

Hollis frowned and paused to stare at the Agent. Walter squeezed the Agent's arms until he shrieked.

"Don't pay attention to him," Walter told Hollis, who nodded.

Hollis went inside, and Walter stayed where he was. He didn't want to do anything too complicated that might compromise his hold on the Agent. Not that he expected him to get away. Under Walter's hands, the murderer's arms were soft. Of course they were. In the end, he was just a lazy killer. What did it matter that he had targeted more unsavory victims? He was still a sick monster masquerading as a man with a cause.

Agent Orange was very reasonable. That was what he had said to describe Ozymandias, but he had been referring to himself, as well. Ozymandias was all logic. Reason always won over men like that. Rorschach was reasonable, too. Governed by strong principles, but all reason nonetheless. Walter wasn't, though. He grew up in a tough neighborhood with a mother who made no sense; had no stability. He had to learn to respond to life through a different approach. Agent Orange had seen two sides of him, but had somehow expected one to dominate the other. Walter didn't appreciate that.

"You'll only revert back," the Agent told him, as if he had been listening to his thoughts. "It wasn't me, but it will be something else, and you'll go back."

Walter just ignored him. He waited until the police arrived and Agent Orange was out of his hands, then returned to work an hour late. Walter felt bad, and was almost prepared to tell Mr. Petersen the truth, even, but the old man was asleep again. A middle-aged couple was standing in the shop. The woman turned to glare at Walter as he entered.

"It's about time," she said. "We're here to pick up our order, and he isn't waking up."

"I'm sorry ma'am," said Walter with an apologetic smile. "Something came up that I had to tend to, I'm afraid."

The woman's anger seemed to abate as she studied Walter.

"Well, that's understandable, I suppose," she said. She smiled at him.

Walter brought the couple their order. They left, satisfied. The lady had even tipped Walter, which surprised him. Alone with his thoughts again, Walter watched Mr. Petersen sleep. The rest of the day was quiet and relaxing. Walter spent most of it sewing buttons onto jacket sleeves. At the end of the day, he woke Mr. Petersen up.

"Oh, my good boy," said the old man, as he stood up. "It's such a lovely day. Why don't you go home early? Be young and free while you can."

Walter started to protest -- he hadn't sweeped up the shop yet -- but Mr. Petersen would have none of it. Walter ended up going to the hospital early to visit Laurie. Walter signed in at the front desk and walked up the stairs and into Laurie's open room door.

"I caught Agent Orange today," Walter announced as he strode in. Laurie was inside, as well as her mother, and Blake, who was off to the side reading the papers.

Blake was the first to react.

"What? Really?" asked Blake, setting the papers aside as if they were on fire. "No shit?"

"No, sir."

"Weren't you supposed to be at work today?" Laurie asked him.

"Yes."

"When did you find time to do it, then?" asked Laurie, frowning.

"I did it on my lunch break."

Laurie started to laugh, but Walter didn't. Laurie stopped and stared as she realized he wasn't joking. It was Blake who laughed when it was apparent that he was serious.

"How the hell did you do it, kid?" the older man asked him.

"I set up a trap," said Walter. "I let him come to me on his terms. I surprised him, though."

"How?" Blake leaned in with interest.

"I made him think I was Rorschach."

Blake laughed and laughed at that.

-----

To be continued...


	37. Chapter 37

Ch. 37

"They're letting me out of the hospital tomorrow," Laurie told Walter.

"Good," he said.

"Tell me about it," sighed Laurie. "I can't stand lying in bed all day. And the food? You wouldn't believe it."

"Mm," said Walter.

"It makes me kind of sad to go home at the same time, because my mother's been so sweet these past couple of days, and she's actually getting along with my dad."

"Yes."

"I just wonder if she's going to revert back to her old ways once I go back to my dad's house, you know?"

"Ah."

"Are you listening, Walter?"

"Yes."

"Is anything the matter? You're very quiet." Laurie tried to turn and look at him, but he wouldn't release her.

"Talking too much," he told her.

"Well, fine," said Laurie, but she smiled. The two of them were sitting close together on her hospital bed, her head on his shoulder and their arms around each other. Laurie settled back against Walter and closed her eyes for a moment.

Laurie concentrated on the sensations around her: the cool air blowing through the open window, the warmth of Water's body next to hers, the sound of his breathing, and the faint beat of his heart nearby. The smell of the hospital was strong, but she could distinguish Walter through the disinfectants. She paused and tried to determine what it was he smelled like. Walter shifted a little and now his cheek was resting on her forehead. Laurie smiled and started to fall asleep, when she had an idea.

"You know," said Laurie, opening her eyes, "We should do something tomorrow. Don't you have the day off?"

"Yes."

"Yes, you have the day off, or yes, we should do something tomorrow?"

"Both."

"Hm."

Silence, just his steady breath.

"They told me no strenuous activities for a couple of months," Laurie said. "Where is that going to leave me and you?"

Laurie pulled back to give Walter a meaningful look. She let her right hand move from where it was resting on his shoulder to his chest then his abdomen. Walter's sleepy look turned to one of surprise and he moved away.

"What?" he asked her incredulously.

"You know, our crime fighting duties." Laurie said innocently. She tried to keep a straight face, but Walter gave her such a look she burst out laughing. "Sorry."

"Very bad," he said. He was smirking, nonetheless. Walter leaned in to kiss her, then his eyes went behind her and he suddenly sat up.

"What's wrong?" Laurie asked him.

"Where did this come from?" he asked her, as he crossed the room to the shelf in the corner. He was pointing at a new bouquet of flowers she had received that afternoon while he was gone. He picked it up as if he owned it and read the attached note. "Hope you're not too bored. Feel better..."

Walter scowled for a few seconds before he finally read the last word.

"Dan," he said. When he looked up, his cheeks was red.

Laurie couldn't really find anything to say, so she shrugged apologetically at him.

"Why," he said, holding up the bouquet and shaking it a little, "Why is he doing this?"

"I don't know, Walter," sighed Laurie. "He's lonely and has no friends except for crime fighters, and one of them is in the hospital. What else is he going to do?"

"Mind his own business if he knows what's good for him."

"Walter--"

"No. The next time I see him, I'm telling him."

"Telling him what?"

"Stay away, or else."

"Or else what?"

Walter didn't reply to her question. He just started to pace the room.

"Walter," said Laurie.

Walter turned his head to look at her. He seemed to see through her for a moment until he shook himself out of his trance and eyed the clock.

"I should go," he told her.

"Can't you stay?"

"No," Walter said. "Good night."

"Well, good night," said Laurie in disbelief as he walked out the door. She had an idea that he was punishing her, somehow. She lay back down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Laurie wished he had turned off the light, at least. She sighed.

Walter came back in. Laurie looked at him with astonishment as he maneuvered around the bed to come to her side. He briefly hovered over her before he placed his hands on either sides of her shoulders and leaned in. He kissed her mouth, then her chin, her cheek, and then her mouth again. Laurie sighed and watched him as he stood back up and studied her. She decided that she loved him.

"Don't talk to Dan," Walter said, suddenly.

"Walter," shouted Laurie, as Walter stalked across the room and left. "Walter!"

He was gone. Laurie folded her arms. She really wished there was something she could do about this whole Dan business. She couldn't help that the man liked to talk. What could she do -- tell him to go to hell? That wasn't right. The way Walter was handling this wasn't right either. Laurie stewed for a while about the issue until she fell asleep.

The next morning, Sally accompanied Laurie back to Blake's house. Laurie's mother seemed to have resigned herself to the fact that Laurie was going to stay with her father.

"As long as I get to visit," Sally had said, wistfully.

Blake carried the suitcase Sally had packed for Laurie during her stay at the hospital back into Laurie's room, as Laurie stayed with her mother in the living room. Sally looked around.

"Quite a nice place he has here," Sally said. "Does he have a maid?"

"No," said Laurie. "He takes care of everything himself."

"Hm..."

Laurie watched her mother as she slowly made her way around the room. Sally found the pictures on the mantelpiece and looked at them, pausing when she found the photo of herself.

"Oh," said Sally.

Blake came in.

"Hey gals, what say we have some lunch?" he asked.

"Why not? I'll handle it -- I'll make your favorite, Eddie," said Sally, as she playfully pushed past him. "Is the kitchen in here?"

Blake stared after her and gave Laurie a bewildered look. Laurie shrugged and smiled mysteriously.

The three of them ate together, and in the end Blake invited Sally back for dinner the next night. Sally agreed, but also suggested that Walter attend as well. After lunch, Laurie went into her room with her mother. Sally was helping her unpack. Actually, she made Laurie sit on the bed while she did everything for her.

"It's very bare in here, Laurie," Sally said, in an affectionate tone. "You really should stop by your old room and take some of your things to put in here."

There was a sound at the window, and Laurie and Sally both turned to see what it was. Walter was there, and he was in the process of opening the window, after which he promptly climbed through. Laurie gawked at him as if he had grown two heads.

"Oh, for the love of," said Sally, folding her arms. "The door is that way, mister."

Walter stopped and gave Sally an impish stare until she gave in and laughed.

"All right, have it your way," she said. "I'm sure you want me out of your hair too, isn't that right?"

Sally left the room, and Walter turned to look at Laurie.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked her.

"Oh, yes," said Laurie, standing up. "I can't wait to get out of this place."

Walter frowned.

"Where are we going?"

"Out -- you said that we could spend the day together."

"Should you be walking around much?" he asked.

"I think I should be fine," Laurie shrugged. "Just as long as we don't do cartwheels or something like that."

Walter looked worried, but he allowed her to lead him out the door when she took his hand.

"You're eating dinner here tomorrow. Mother's invitation." Laurie told him.

"Fine," he told her.

"Fine," she said. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know. You're the one who wants to go places."

"Walter, are you still bugged about yesterday?"

Walter grunted and Laurie threw up her hands.

"What am I supposed to do -- tell Dan to stop talking to me?"

"Yes."

"Walter," Laurie said, softly, "Don't you think that's a little unfair?"

Walter looked into her eyes.

"I don't like how he keeps hanging around you," he told her, very quietly.

"I'm not going to run off with Dan," Laurie said, putting her hand on his face. "You don't need to worry about him."

Walter frowned, but he said nothing. After a moment, they continued on.

Walter and Laurie spent most of their time at the park holding hands. After a few hours, they had dinner, and returned to the park as the sun was setting. They sat on a bench and watched the people walk by. The night air was getting chilly, and Laurie felt herself getting closer to Walter. They resumed their positions from the night before, her head against his shoulder as they sank into familiarity.

"It's so nice like this," said Laurie.

"Mm-hmm."

"Too bad this day is going to end soon."

"We have tomorrow."

"But you go to work tomorrow."

"I meant dinner."

"Yes, but my parents will be there."

"Afterwards."

"I suppose so," Laurie shrugged.

"I'm surprised your mother invited me at all, especially after last time."

"Why not?" Laurie said, feeling nervous. "You're my boyfriend now."

Walter stiffened a little.

"Am I?"

"Yes -- aren't you?"

"Yes," he said, after a pause.

"Good."

Laurie was ecstatic. They held hands as they walked home. Walter saw Laurie to her front door and kissed her.

"Don't you want to come inside?" Laurie asked him.

Walter smiled at her.

"Want to," he said. "Shouldn't."

Laurie smiled back at him.

"All right," she said, with a small sigh. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Laurie went inside and then to bed pretty soon afterwards. The next morning, she came into the kitchen to find her father cooking those eggs of his. Laurie hugged him.

"Hey," said Blake, laughing. "What's happening?"

"It's just so good to be back like this," said Laurie. "I feel like we've been gone for years."

"Yeah, yeah," said Blake. "And tomorrow you'll be so sick of your old man you'll want to move out of the house."

"No," said Laurie. "Never."

"Uh-huh, yeah right," Blake said, but he looked happy.

They ate breakfast together, Blake mostly reading the newspaper at the table.

"I don't know what I'm going to do when I go back to crime fighting," Laurie said, after a while.

"Hey now," said Blake, looking up as he set the paper aside. "You're not going to be in any shape to do that for a long time."

"I know," said Laurie, "But I mean... I don't know if I could get the courage to do it again. After getting stabbed, I wonder what else could happen to me out there, you know?"

Blake laughed.

"Oh, I know all right," he said. "Why do you think I got a costume change back in the day?"

"You got stabbed too?" Laurie asked, surprised. Her father seemed indestructible to her.

"Oh hell yes," said Blake. "Nearly died, actually. Afterwards I was so paranoid it'd happen again, I went out and made armor for myself. Didn't seem right without it."

"Do you have a scar?"

"Well, of course."

"Can I see it?"

Blake grunted a little as he stood up and lifted his shirt and turned away from her. There was a thin scar running down his lower back, near his kidney.

"Did you ever get hurt after you changed your costume?" Laurie asked, with wide eyes.

"Eh, sometimes, but not as seriously," said Blake, turning around again.

"I wish I could wear armor, too."

Blake laughed.

"Why don't I make you something then?" he suggested. "Should take some time, but we have plenty of that before you go back."

"Would you really?" Laurie asked. "That would be great."

"What else is a dad good for if not for crap like that?" Blake said, shrugging.

Laurie could think of many things. All the things Laurence never did were most of them.

-----

To be continued...


	38. Chapter 38

Ch. 38

Walter was not in a good mood that day. Mr. Petersen had given him a raise, even gushed about what wonderful help he was. That wasn't why he was in a bad state of mind; just that it didn't help put a damper on his anger. He was preoccupied with thoughts of Dan. Well, Laurie, actually -- what else was new nowadays -- still, Dan was a big part of it. The events with Dan upset him, but the fact that he was upset about him to begin with upset Walter even more. Walter had tried to be patient, god knows, he was new at this whole relationship business, but he didn't like how things were going with Laurie and Dan. At first he had brushed it off thinking maybe Dan would get the hint and go away, and yet he persisted. Laurie did nothing to deter him, either. It seemed she was keen on being friends with him. It was easier at least when she had decided she hated him, but now that she was more lenient towards him, it really put Walter in a bad place.

Walter had kept mostly silent about Dan. He did let on that he did not approve of the situation, but never to the degree of his disapproval. After Laurie confirmed the status of their relationship the night before, Walter decided that he should nip this in the bud -- a bigger bud than it should be, but a bud still -- while he had the chance. Many times Walter wondered if he should try to find out where Dan lived and have a talk with him. Then he wondered if it was better if he just had a talk with Laurie. What would he say to her, though? Walter didn't want to give Laurie the impression that he distrusted her. He didn't -- well, not much, anyway -- he didn't think she would betray him if they were out fighting criminals, of course, but when it came to Dan, he really didn't feel very safe at all.

I mean, sure, they were dating now; she was his girlfriend, so he had much more say than if they were just seeing each other. But she wasn't his wife, either. It would be so much easier if she was his wife; then he could tell her not to have any male friends or visitors and Dan would be out of sight, out of mind.

Walter hadn't slept much the night before. It really seemed he slept the best when Laurie was there. He certainly was spoiling himself that way. It didn't help that he was thinking about Dan, though. The more he thought about Dan, the angrier he became. He had worried his stomach into his knots over Dan. One bouquet was enough, but why two? With a note, no less? Had he been visiting Laurie while Walter was away? Wasn't he happy enough causing scandals with the Twilight Lady without having to add one more on top of it all? Goddamn Dan.

After work, Walter went home and changed. He made his way to the Blake residence, worrying about Dan mostly, but also about Laurie's mother. Her mother had invited him to that awful dinner before, and he couldn't imagine what sort of strange questions she had in mind for him this time. He even wondered if she had invited Dan there. Laurie hadn't specified how many people would be present at dinner. What if it was those people all over again, from the dinner party? Sally was crazy -- maybe she went and invited Agent Orange, too. Who knew? No, no; Laurie would have told him if that were the case. And Agent Orange was behind bars, or at least being given a hard time by the police, wherever he was. Walter was just making mountains out of this mess.

When Walter arrived at the Blake home, he thought he was dreaming for a moment or maybe thinking about Dan too much, because he saw him there. It took him a while to realize that he really _was_ there. Laurie had answered the door and the first thing he saw were her wide eyes. The second thing he saw was Dan sitting on the couch like he lived there. Walter was angry beyond reason.

"He stopped by to drop off a book of mine my mother lent him," Laurie whispered. "Now he won't leave; I'm sorry."

Oh, Laurie, poor innocent, naive Laurie. What else would Dan be there for? Returning that book was all a ruse and he knew it. Walter was going to take care of him for sure.

"You," said Walter, seeing red for a moment and shaking his head so he could see Dan again.

"Oh, hi, Walter," said Dan, smiling pleasantly at him. Walter thought he was wasting his pretensions on him.

"Stay away from her," Walter told him in a low voice. Blunt, but to the point. That was the only way it was going to be.

"Sorry?" Dan adjusted his glasses.

"Stay away from Laurie," said Walter. "Or I'm going to have to kill you."

"Walter," Laurie exclaimed, but Walter wasn't listening to her.

"I'm sorry," said Dan, standing up. "But why?"

"She's mine," Walter told him. He almost added something profane afterwards, but he couldn't do that, not even now.

"But we're just friends, Walter," said Dan, shrugging after realization graced his facial features. "I mean, I understand where you're coming from. I get jealous too, but I try to be reasonable about it, you know?"

"Not about reason," Walter said. He was hoping Dan would stop talking for his own sake. He really was going to kill him if he didn't shut up. "It's about respect. You don't go rifling through another man's house for things to put in your own."

Walter must have had _some_ kind of expression on his face, because Dan held up his hands.

"All right," he said. "I'll try. But I'm friends with Sally and I might end up near Laurie at some point and I don't want you flying off the handle."

Walter paused. Was the creep mocking him? He had half a mind to punch him in the mouth. Dan backed away.

"I'll be going then," he said, eyeing Walter, then looking at Laurie. He smiled at her. Oh, no he didn't.

"Uh, bye Dan," said Laurie, looking into Walter's eyes. She was pleading with him. Walter nodded at her and tried to calm down.

"Bye Laurie," said Dan. Walter saw Dan's next move as if it were in slow motion. Dan's hand was reaching out and Walter couldn't believe what he was doing. Suddenly his hand was on her shoulder, not just a brief touch which would be bad enough, but a squeeze. That was it. He lost it.

Dan made a strangled sound as Walter rushed him. Dan fell backwards into a coffee table, crushing it, but Walter didn't care. He punched Dan once, and his glasses flew off. He landed in another punch, then another, before Dan started defending himself. At first he put his arms up, but Walter applied thick punches up into his gut and Dan started fighting back. Dan grabbed Walter by the shoulders and rolled around and punched him; pinning him down and hitting anything he could. Walter could hear something said in the background, but he didn't identify the words. Was that Blake's voice? Didn't matter.

Walter punched Dan in the throat. Wheezing, Dan punched him in the face. Enraged, Walter started to strangle him. Dan grabbed Walter's forearms and dug his fingers into them, but Walter didn't let up. _Kill him_. Yes, he would kill Dan. See how he liked talking about mechanical engineering from behind the grave, _the bastard_. If he thought about having Laurie in ways that should not be imagined, he was going to kill him for that too. _Kill him, twice if you have to_. Yes. Walter smashed his head into Dan's and bore his full weight down into his arms. He felt strong hands wrap around his torso and wrech him backward. Walter resisted and fought against it with his elbows.

"Shit," he heard Blake say. Then he felt Blake's hands press against him harder to tear him away. Walter held on to Dan as long as he could and finally gave way with bloody streaks from Dan's throat as Walter's nails slipped. Blake pinned his arms down and Walter struggled as Dan started to get up. Walter gave him one last kick in the face before biting into Blake's arm.

"Goddammit," shouted Blake, to Dan, as Dan recoiled with a bloody nose. "Get the hell out of here before I kill you myself if it'll make him stop!"

Dan gaped at first Blake, then Walter. His eyes were reeling with horror when he saw him. He slipped, turned, and ran out the door, holding his nose and throat. Walter struggled and screamed.

"I'll kill you," he shouted after Dan. "_I'll find you and kill you_."

Walter snapped out of his crazed state, shocked by the voice that came out of him. He was still angry, sure, but enough to kill? That was a sobering thought for sure. Walter fell limp and Blake nearly toppled backwards into the wall at the sudden lack of resistance.

"Shit, kid," said Blake. "Have you lost your god damned mind? What the hell happened?"

Walter wasn't sure. He just lay there, stunned, letting Blake have his hold on him. He could taste blood, and he realized there was more trickling down his face. He held up his hands to look at them and they were covered in blood, too. The carpet was a mess, and the living room had been trashed. He looked up to find Laurie staring at him with wide, fearful eyes.

"Why did you do that, Walter?" she asked, as tears came down her face. "That was awful, so awful."

Walter had nothing to say to that. He was still surprised he had done it, himself. He felt Blake's grip loosen on him and he slipped to the floor where he sat, dazed. Blake moved around to study him.

"Geez," said Blake, chuckling with humorless disbelief. "Jesus Christ. You kids..."

Blake stood up and shook his head. Then he started to laugh.

"Christ," he said, laughing some more. He reached into the broken remnants of the coffee table and pulled out a box of cigars. He eased one out and lit it.

Walter wrinkled his nose at the stench of cigar smoke as it filled the room. He heard footsteps behind him.

"Sorry I'm late," said Sally, as she came in. "Why is the-- my god, Eddie, what did you do?"

"What the hell," said Blake, as Sally rushed inside.

"What have you done to him, Edward Blake," shouted Sally, as she stared at Walter, horrified. "He's a mess, this place is a mess!"

"What have I done?" Blake asked, gesturing. "He did this himself! Attacked the Owl kid."

"What?" Sally looked up at Blake as if he had just claimed he flew down from outer space.

"Yeah," said Blake, drawing on his cigar in a contemplative gesture. Then he started to laugh again. "Kind of funny, actually. You should have seen his face--"

"I don't see how this could be funny at all, Eddie."

"You had to be there, I guess." Blake laughed. He looked up, held out his bleeding arm with Walter's teeth marks in it and laughed harder. "Thought I had a temper, kid. That was pretty amazing; fireworks and everything."

Laurie turned and left the room. Sally looked at Laurie first, then at Blake, before she followed her daughter.

"Eh," said Blake, waving his hand in a dismissive fashion at Sally as she went away. "Women."

Walter wished he could follow Laurie into her room, but what could he do then? He didn't really have any way to explain himself. Instead he sat on the living room floor with Blake and his cigar, stewing in shame. All Walter could do was look down at his bloody, shaking hands and hope he hadn't ruined everything.

-----

To be continued...


	39. Chapter 39

Ch. 39

"Laurie, what happened?" Sally asked, even as Laurie entered her room and attempted to close the door behind her.

Laurie shook her head and tried to dry her eyes.

"Oh, Dan was here," Laurie said, sniffing. "Came in and started talking like he usually does. Walter really hates that, though -- hates that Dan's been friendly with me."

Sally nodded and pursed her lips.

"Walter came in, then told Dan to back off," continued Laurie. "Dan did the wise thing and started to leave, but he put his hand on me just before that, and Walter attacked him."

Laurie wasn't looking at her mother as she sat down on her bed.

"It was so horrible, Mom," said Laurie, biting her lip. "They were fighting each other -- Dan surprised me enough, the way he was punching Walter, but Walter was vicious to him, like he wanted to kill him."

Laurie paused and looked out the window, half-expecting Walter to climb through it again.

"Then he _did_ try to kill him," Laurie sighed and put her face in her hands. "He was screaming at him, and Dad came in and tried to stop it, and even he had a hard time -- I thought for sure that Dan was going to be dead. I saw his face go purple, and there was blood when Dad finally tore Walter away, and I just knew for a certain that Dan was dead, and Walter would go to prison and I'd never see him again."

Laurie heard a strange sound and looked up to realize her mother was laughing.

"Mom," said Laurie, reproachfully.

"Oh, Laurie," said Sally, walking over to her to hug and kiss her, "All that happens and the thing you worry about the most is seeing Walter go to prison?"

Laurie held out her hands in supplication, but her mother took then and put them against her bosom.

"Dear Laurie," said Sally. "I know it's hard to watch, but men are like that sometimes -- they just need to let it out and we women will watch on and think they've all gone crazy, but in the end they're all friends, and it never makes any sense."

"I doubt Walter and Dan will ever be friends now." Laurie said in a haunted voice. "You didn't see what Walter did to him."

"Well... if that's the case, then you will have to deal with it, honey," said Sally, smoothing back her hair and planting a kiss on top of it. "Walter is an extremely jealous boy, and if you can't handle that now, think about how it will be like living with that for the rest of your life."

"Mom--"

"I'm not making judgments, dear, just an observation, that's all. If you have a problem with his behavior, you talk to him, and if he cares about you enough he'll try to let up. If he doesn't, then you shouldn't even be giving him the time of the day."

Laurie sighed and nodded.

"Now, why don't we try to clean this mess up," said Sally. "I doubt your father is going to be much help with this. He thinks it was all good man fun, I'm sure."

In this case, Sally was correct. Blake was sitting on the sofa with his newspaper, the broken room around him, as if nothing had happened. Walter sat crumpled on the carpet next to him. He had a black eye, a cut on his cheek and lip; his forehead was bruised, and blood was dribbling down from his mouth and nose. Walter's dejected, wide eyes shone out from all the blood as Laurie came in, and she felt for him.

"Oh, Walter," Laurie said softly, as she approached him. She took his hand and tried to stand him up, but he wasn't budging. She winced a little as she pulled against her stitches, and suddenly Walter was standing again as he rushed to do it before she hurt herself. Laurie thought that was a sweet gesture, and would have forgotten all about what had happened before had she not had the evidence in front of her on his battered face.

"Now then," said Sally, with her hands on her hips. "Let me look at you."

Sally advanced towards Walter and he cringed away, but she was relentless. She held out her hands and attempted to touch his face but he dodged his way around her until she finally had her hold on him. He stared at her with confused eyes as she ran her fingers over his bruises. Sally made disapproving noises as she studied him.

"Laurie, get some ice and the first aid kit, will you?"

"Under the sink," said Blake, not taking his eyes off the paper.

"I'm fine," Walter said.

Sally threw her head back and laughed.

"You'll be fine when I say you are, young man," she told him. Walter looked sullen but he didn't say anything after that.

Laurie brought what her mother requested, and watched as her mother cleaned Walter's wounds and patched him up the best she could.

"There, all better," said Sally. "Just damaged pride and a few bruises."

Sally leaned in and kissed Walter on the forehead before he could react. He jumped away from her as if she had punched him there instead. Sally laughed and pat his behind. Walter looked at Laurie, aghast.

"Mom," said Laurie, coming to Walter's defense.

"What?" asked Sally, "The boy needs some motherly love."

"Shit, we gonna eat soon?" asked Blake, folding the newspaper. "I'm starved."

Sally gave Laurie an I-Told-You-So look and followed Blake into the kitchen. Walter seemed ready to leave, but Laurie grabbed his hand and bumped into him to push him towards her parents. It was subtle, but she caught Walter wince as she hit his stomach. Laurie frowned and quickly lifted his shirt before he could react. A dark red bruise had formed on his abdomen, right under his ribs. Laurie only had a few seconds to look at it before Walter tucked his shirt back down again.

"Walter," said Laurie, slowly reaching out and holding him gently to her. She pressed her face into his neck. He smelled of a mixture of Walter and blood. Feeling the warm skin of his throat next to her cheek made her cry a little. She was so relieved that he was all right; that he hadn't killed Dan. Walter held her in return and buried his own face in her hair. She thought she heard him sobbing, but when she pulled back, he just looked very tired. Laurie kissed him in between his mouth and his cheek, one of the few places that didn't have an injury as of the moment. Dan really had roughed him up. He might be a bit of a nerd, but he was still a crime fighter at night. But still, Walter was tougher and it showed. It made Laurie feel a bit triumphant over it in a way, until she felt guilty for feeling good about Dan's defeat. She wondered if he was all right. Of course, she wasn't going to call him now and see of he was okay -- Walter might kill _her_ if she did that. Laurie felt terrified for a moment, then pushed the thought away. No, Walter would never do anything like that to her. In any case, she was going to have to ask her mother to check on Dan later, if she already hadn't planned to already.

Walter and Laurie went into the kitchen and joined her parents at the dining table.

"So, Walter, now that I know your name, I only have two more questions," joked Sally, "How old are you, and where do you work?"

"Ninety-seven," he told her. "And I'm a hobo, don't you remember?"

Blake burst out laughing. Sally looked so irritated that Laurie couldn't help but laugh too. What could you do besides laugh at that point? Laurie looked at Walter and grimaced. Some areas on his face were starting to swell from his wounds. She wondered how he was going to go to work looking like that.

"So, uh," said Blake, clearing his throat. "I'm going to make armor for Laurie."

"You are?" asked Sally, brightly, as if somehow Laurie's parents had secretly decided on a subject that would draw their attentions away from the big one at hand.

"Yeah, going to get her all patched up so she can't get stabbed again. You want armor too, Walter?"

"Yes please, for my face," Walter said. "For next time."

Laurie put her hand to her mouth as Blake laughed. Sally did too, though not as loudly he did.

"I apologize for the mess in the living room," Walter continued. "I will clean it up as soon as I am permitted."

"Hey kid," said Blake, shaking his hand at him, "No need for the fancy talk; no big deal, I'll clean it up."

Walter frowned and said nothing. He seemed to know better than to argue with Blake by now.

Dinner went by relatively normally -- well, as normal as it could be with Walter looking like he'd been hit by a truck -- but Laurie was still relieved when it was all over. Sally shooed them from the kitchen, and Blake shooed them from the living room. Laurie finally led Walter to her room, where she sat him on her bed.

Laurie knelt down in front of Walter, resting her elbows on his knees as she looked up at him with her chin on the back of her hands. Laurie studied him for a long moment with only warmth for him.

"Poor Walter," she said.

Walter looked down, but not at her. He seemed ashamed. Laurie put her hand on his and he took it and looked at her with sad eyes.

"Laurie," he said, as he caressed her cheek, then her hair with his other hand. "Do you hate me?"

"No," she said, shocked. "Of course not."

"Even if I destroyed your father's living room?"

"Of course."

"Even if I attacked him, and your... friend?"

"Dan is someone I know, Walter -- maybe he'd call me his friend; I don't know, but he's more like an acquaintance to me."

"Less than an acquaintance, I had hoped," Walter said, and he seemed quite pained at that moment.

Laurie stood up and sat down on the bed next to him. It hurt a little to twist herself, her side being a tender place, but she did it anyway.

"Walter," she said, "I don't know if I've done anything to make you think otherwise, but I tolerate Dan; that's all. He's okay -- but I'm not attracted to him. I'm not going to marry him or date him, Walter, no matter how much he decided to chase after me -- which he isn't. I'm with you, remember?"

Walter looked away.

"Hey," said Laurie, placing her hand on his cheek to move his head to face her, "Don't even think about Dan. He's just a guy. Do you know how scared I was today? I thought you were going to go to prison; that was what I told my mom and she laughed because that was the thing I was the most worried about. Not about someone dying in the living room, even if it happened to be Dan, Walter. You were the one I worried about above all else. Understand?"

Walter didn't respond, but he put his head on Laurie's shoulder and stayed there for a long while. Laurie tentatively stroked his hair, worried that he had a hidden cut or bruise there that her mother had missed. Walter sighed. Laurie lay back on the bed and urged Walter to do the same. They pushed themselves up on the bed until they were properly situated on it, and Laurie held Walter to her, closing her eyes as she did.

There they fell asleep together on top of the covers, lights on, and all.

-----

To be continued...


	40. Chapter 40

Ch. 40

Walter woke up and groaned a little. His mouth tasted like a copper mill had exploded in it. His ears were ringing, and his head was heavy.

"Walter?" Laurie asked, waking up next to him. "Are you okay?"

Walter turned and looked at Laurie and he was relieved. He had a nightmare that she had left him, somehow, and he was so sure that it had been real. He was grateful to find her near him and that he didn't have to wallow in the pain of her absence. He couldn't take that right now, on top of everything else. Walter tried to focus away from his throbbing headache by gazing at Laurie. She looked beautiful and soft lying next to him with nothing but concern in her eyes. Even after that stunt he pulled yesterday. Walter wondered what had gotten into him the night before -- it was as if he had been possessed. Needless to say, he was glad that Laurie was forgiving of his actions and had given him another chance. She had, hadn't she?

Walter sat up and looked at her. She sat up with him.

"What's wrong, Walter?" she asked, sounding a little alarmed.

"Everything is all right?" Walter asked her.

"What do you mean?"

"With us."

"Yes," she said, taking his hand. "Isn't it?"

"Only if you think so." Walter grimaced a little.

"Oh course, Walter."

"Thank you."

Laurie gave him a smile, but she didn't seem to understand what he was telling her. She was so accepting of him in a way that no one else was. He sighed deeply, wanting her and not caring if it showed in his eyes and she saw it. He kissed her gingerly and slipped out of bed before things got out of hand. He hadn't been able to control himself the night before; he wasn't sure how he would fare when it came to other things.

Walter turned and looked at the bedside lamp. Hadn't the light been on when they fell asleep? He looked at Laurie, who was stretching prettily. He studied how her hair cascaded down her shoulders and how her curves accentuated her body. He was paying particular attention to her hips when he realized what he was doing and stopped himself.

"Were the lights on last night?" he asked her while avoiding her eyes.

Laurie gasped.

"You're right," she said. When he looked up, her face was flushed with embarrassment. That made him want her more, somehow. It must have been a strange sight, them gazing at each other in that odd way; him with desire and her with some mixture of wonder and excitement.

There was a knock on the door, and Walter and Laurie froze.

"Come in," said Laurie, looking scared.

Blake opened the door.

"Hey," he said, after glancing at them, "You gotta hear this."

Blake leaned against the doorway and held out the paper in front of him. He read the article that reported how Agent Orange had been set free due to lack of evidence. Actually, it hardly seemed they suspected him of being Agent Orange to begin with. Walter was annoyed.

"So, now he's out running around again," said Blake. "What are you going to do about that, Walter?"

"Kill him," he said.

"A highly effective method for dealing with trash," said Blake, nodding, "But you have to stop yourself if that starts to become your answer to everything."

"I'm sure you know all about that," Walter said, folding his arms.

"As a matter of fact, I do," said Blake, as he straightened himself. "Don't go around making the same mistakes I did."

"I'll do what I want," said Walter, pushing past him.

"Woah now," said Blake. "You on the rag? Laurie, why don't you give him one of your tampons to shove up his ass and stop the bullshit from running out."

"Dad," said Laurie, looking shocked.

"Heh, sorry," Blake shrugged and followed Walter into the hall. "What's the matter, kid?"

Walter glared at him and left the house. He could hear Blake laughing behind him, and wanted to punch him. What the hell was wrong with him? Walter himself, that was, not Blake. Blake was reacting in the way he knew best. Walter -- he just didn't know why he was behaving in this manner. He wanted to blame Agent Orange for all of it; he was going to have to go out there find him after all, but that wasn't it. That was too simple.

Walter went home, showered, changed, and grimaced in the mirror at his face. He looked beat up, but it wasn't _that_ bad, he supposed. So much for his fantastic employee image. He wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Petersen fired him for looking like a punk. When he showed up, however, his boss just seemed sympathetic. The old man was certain that Walter had been mugged, for some reason.

Walter brooded all day. He was sure he was driving away the customers, but they only seemed even more drawn towards him, especially the middle-aged women, who cooed at Walter when Mr. Petersen told them all about his violent mugging. After work, Walter started to go home, but he went to Blake's house instead. He didn't feel like dealing with Blake if he answered the door, so he climbed in Laurie's window.

"Walter," said Laurie, giggling as she put down the book she had been reading. "What would you have done if I had been changing my clothes or something?"

"Then I would have seen you in a nude or semi-nude state," he told her in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What would you have done about that?" she asked, looking into his eyes.

Walter smiled and felt it was best left unsaid. Laurie smiled too after a moment and took his hands, which she placed on her lower back. She leaned in to kiss him, very gently as he still had a cut on his lip. Walter closed his eyes and let the feel of her wash over him. He enjoyed the sensation of her body pressed against his, despite the fact that she was pushing into the bruise on his stomach. He let his hands venture a little lower than he usually permitted them to, and he was both intrigued and frightened by the sound she made at that.

He wanted her, badly. What was the matter with him? He wasn't himself, and he didn't even have Rorschach's voice to admonish him, hold him back. Walter felt guilty, knowing for sure the truth about Rorschach, deep down, but not wanting to face it. He would do that later. He pushed Rorschach out of his mind; tried to push Laurie out of his mind, and all the thoughts that came with her.

"Walter," Laurie sighed in his ear as she kissed behind it.

Walter put his face in her shoulder for one long moment, drawing her into him before he reluctantly pulled back. It was getting more difficult each time.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he told Laurie, using his hands to push her hair behind her ears.

"You're not staying?" she asked him, looking disappointed.

Walter smiled.

"I will have to start paying your father rent if I do that too much," he told her.

"I'm sure he doesn't mind."

"It's inappropriate."

"But it's not on the times when you do stay?"

"No," he shook his head. "That's just when I'm weak."

Laurie seemed as if she was going to say something, but she didn't. Walter wished she would try harder to make him stay, because he would. He would do anything she asked of him, if she would be more forceful about what she wanted.

"Lock your window," Walter said, then added, "Agent Orange."

Laurie nodded and watched him leave. Walter hovered outside the window to make sure she complied with his request and left when he heard her slide the lock in place. Now he didn't have to worry as much.

Walter came home and changed into his costume. He patrolled the streets alone. The city at night was almost like a ghost town. Rorschach couldn't figure out what it was until he remembered Agent Orange's article. Of course, it had been today. Why did this morning seem like so long ago? Everyone was quivering in their beds that night, he was sure. Rorschach made his way to the docks. He half expected to not find the Comedian there, but he did. The Comedian eyed him with a neutral expression as Rorschach made his way to him.

"Hey kid," said the Comedian, "You off your period now?"

Rorschach growled at him and the Comedian laughed.

"You come to keep me company?" asked the Comedian. "Or here to fling your shit mood in my face?"

"Both."

"Fine by me."

The two men stood together for a long while, not saying a word. Rorschach studied the Comedian who didn't seem to look at him directly, but out into the distance.

"Seems pretty boring when the streets are practically empty," muttered the Comedian, finally.

"Agent Orange," said Rorschach.

"Of course," shrugged the Comedian. "In the beginning, fear always works the best. It's when it's prolonged when things start getting out of hand. When people start fighting back."

"Hm."

"Like I should talk -- inspiring fear and repulsion is what I do best. It's the quickest method, and virtually fool proof for a temporary solution."

"Yes."

The Comedian went silent after that. He lit a cigar and held it as Rorschach glared at the offending object as unsavory smoke rose up from its end.

"War's going to have to come to a stop at some point," the Comedian said, quietly, after a moment. He still wasn't looking at Rorschach, though Rorschach was intently looking at him. This was important.

"If it doesn't, people are going to be sent in to intervene," continued the Comedian. "People hired by the government, you know what I'm saying?"

Rorschach nodded.

"Don't tell her," said the Comedian, as he glanced at Rorschach. "It'll only make her worry and I don't want that if there's a small chance it's not going to happen. If it does, well... she can find out when the time comes."

"How do you know if you will be called in?" Rorschach asked.

"Well, I guess it's all determined by the upcoming elections," shrugged the Comedian. "Depends on who becomes our next president -- and judging by how the Democratic party is right now with the wind knocked out of their sails, we all know who it's going to be."

The Comedian looked sad at that moment, and Rorschach wanted to know why. Was the Comedian involved in the election?

"You get yourself in a mess regretting the shit you do, you know," said the Comedian, "Punishing yourself, depriving yourself of what you really need. Pushing away people who are good for you because you don't think you deserve it."

Rorschach peered at the Comedian and waited for him to continue.

"When others let bygones be bygones, you take that chance they give you," the Comedian told him. "If you don't forgive yourself, nobody will. In the end, it'll bite you in the ass, and you'll lose everything, including your fucking dignity."

Rorschach nodded. The Comedian studied his cigar as if he had just found it.

"You learn from your mistakes. Second chances don't come by every day, Walter."

Rorschach flinched when he heard his name.

"Think of it as a life experience. Just vow to never repeat your mistakes again."

Rorschach wondered if the Comedian was speaking for Rorschach, or himself. Probably both. They regarded one another with mutual respect. The Comedian nodded at him.

"Thank you," said Rorschach.

"I'll see you tomorrow, kid."

Rorschach smiled at him, though of course, the Comedian couldn't see it. Rorschach made his way into the empty streets once more. He made a cursory round before he retired early. He had something important to do tomorrow.

-----

To be continued...


	41. Chapter 41

Ch. 41

Laurie had to admit that she missed crime fighting. She had become quite attached to her second life, and lying around not being able to do anything was very frustrating to her. She couldn't believe she had only been back from the hospital for two days. Just a week before, she had been running around without a care, taking things for granted. Lying in bed the morning after Walter left with warnings about Agent Orange, Laurie realized something. She could have died that night she was stabbed. She felt foolish for not thinking about it before that, but she had been preoccupied with so many other thoughts, it wasn't until things were still and she had a moment to herself that she came to the realization.

Laurie had almost died, and so easily, at that. Of course, she had feared for her safety fighting in the streets prior to the incident. However, it never occurred to her that it would be this bad -- sort of a strange sense of invincibility, she supposed. Being injured like she had been was something that happened to other people. Being injured like that had only been a concept in her mind. A bad concept, but something that wouldn't apply to her. Then of course it happened, shattering any illusions she had about the world.

Laurie looked around her room and wondered about everything she took for granted. Her home, her parents, her life, even Walter. She loved them, sure, but did she tell them that enough times? Did she appreciate her life enough? Laurie thought of all the things she was grateful for; feeling a little selfish looking at events, people, herself, the way she used to see them. Lifting up her shirt, she studied the slowly healing wound that had been given to her. The stabbing was bad, but it could have been worse. Laurie paused and tried to remember the night, but it was all a blur to her now. Walter had saved her, hadn't she? She hadn't stopped to ask him or anyone about the events that transpired that night. She had distorted memories of it, sure, but she hadn't asked for someone else's perspective on it. She made a point to ask Walter or her father about it later, and got out of bed.

Blake wasn't home, so Laurie ate breakfast by herself. Afterwards, she called her mother.

"Laurie," said her mother, sounding incredibly happy to talk to her. "How are you doing, sweetie?"

"I'm fine," said Laurie. "I was just kind of... wondering about Dan."

"Just kind of?"

"Well, I was worried about him, that's all. Is he okay? Have you heard from him?"

"I was actually about to visit Hollis' place... he's there."

"Oh."

"Do you want to come with me?"

"Mom," Laurie gasped. "If Walter finds out--"

"--then he can deal with it," her mother finished for her. "Come on, Laurie, we're visiting him, not making a marriage proposal."

"I suppose you're right."

"Walter will have to get used to the fact that you can talk to other men like any normal person does."

"I guess so."

"Come now, Laurie," said Sally. "Come with your mother. Spend some time with her."

Laurie sighed.

"All right."

"Good. Why don't you meet me at Hollis'?"

"Okay, Mom."

Laurie hung up and felt a little guilty. Her mother was right, though, and she just wanted to see for herself if Dan was okay, that's all. If she didn't see him now, all she would remember of him was how he looked after her father had finally torn Walter off of him. All she would remember was that look he gave her just before he turned and left the house. Laurie showered and changed and stepped out, feeling the morning sun on her head and enjoying it. It was good to be alive -- she needed to remember this moment so that she would appreciate life more. Laurie made her way through the commercial streets, looking around at the people around her that looked so ambivalent about the fact that they existed. Laurie wanted to shout to them, push them into traffic if it would show them, wake them up so that they would see how wonderful it was to just be here. She briefly looked into Walter's old work place -- the dress shop -- before she remembered he worked in the Upper East Side now. She hadn't been around that area, because Walter had told her nothing about it. Laurie frowned. She really wished Walter would tell her where he worked, where he lived. She couldn't believe she finally had a boyfriend and she didn't even know where his home was, let alone his last name.

Laurie stopped. What _was_ Walter's last name? Had she ever asked him? She scratched her head, feeling peculiar about this whole situation. How long had she known Walter? Three and a half years? Oh, well. Laurie wasn't going to think about it too much and let it ruin her day. She was going to focus on the good things in life, enjoy her time with her mother and just have faith that Walter would come around eventually.

"Excuse me, Miss," said an ordinary looking man who seemed quite familiar to Laurie. His green eyes were very piercing and strangely artificial in the bright sun. "Do you have the time?"

"Oh," said Laurie, looking down. She didn't carry a watch, so she shrugged apologetically at him. "I'm sorry, I don't."

"That's quite all right," he said, and made a gesture to leave before he paused. "Say -- don't I know you?"

Laurie frowned and tried to place the face. She did feel like she had seen him before, but she couldn't remember where.

"I... don't know," said Laurie. "Maybe."

"Oh wait," the man laughed. "I remember now; I delivered those flowers to you at the hospital."

It all came back to Laurie now. (_Mister...S. Miles. Funny. Gag gift?_)

"Right," said Laurie, nodding. "I remember."

"How are you feeling?" he asked her. "Is that an odd question to receive from a stranger?"

"Well, I'm feeling better," said Laurie. "Can't lift heavy objects or go cycling, but I'm recovering one day at a time."

"That's good, I'm glad." The man nodded. Something about the way he looked at her chilled Laurie. It was the way it seemed his eyes had nothing behind them. And did he even know why she had been in the hospital to begin with?

Laurie didn't seem to have to worry, however -- the man seemed satisfied with their conversation and started to move away.

"You take care of yourself," he told her. "Don't want something like this to ruin your day."

Laurie stared after him for a long time after he had disappeared around the corner. She shivered and continued on to Hollis' house. Laurie worried that she might get there before her mother, but she needn't have bothered -- her mother was waiting for her at the doorstep. Sally was smiling.

"I looked down the street and saw this pretty young lady walking this way," Sally told her, "It took me a moment to realize that it was you, Laurie."

Laurie blushed.

"Mom," she said, and hugged her.

Sally put her arm around her daughter and rang the doorbell. Hollis came to the door and brightened.

"Sally," he said, hugging her. Then he nodded to Laurie. "And Laurie. What a surprise."

"Hello Hollis," said Laurie, feeling a little shy.

Hollis let them in, and Laurie looked around. Her eyes went to the corner of the sitting room and she realized Dan was there, watching her with a horrified expression on her face.

"Oh God," said Dan, standing up. He had a neck brace, and his hand was bandaged up -- not to mention the plaster on his nose and the bruises and cuts he had.

"It's okay, Dan, it's just me and my mom," Laurie told him.

"Hello Da-- my goodness, he really did a turn on you, didn't he?" Sally gasped.

Dan let Sally fuss over him while Laurie watched, unable to look at his injuries but at the same time unable to look away, too. Laurie sat by while Hollis, Sally, and Dan talked. Sally would refer to Laurie sometimes, and Hollis would ask her a few questions, but Dan avoided her entirely. Laurie felt bad. Afterwards, she excused herself and made her way back home. She walked around the park, missing Walter, missing crime fighting, and missing the times when everything was so much simpler than all this. Sitting next to the pond and looking across the water, Laurie contemplated on her life. What was she going to do? Would she get a job? As much as he hated her, Laurence hadn't written her out of his will entirely. He also had left her a trust fund that she had had access to since she had turned eighteen. What would Laurie do, then? Being a veterinarian seemed silly, now. And what of Walter? Would he want her in his life for years to come -- or was he going to back out on her? And what of her father? Would he tolerate her living at his house forever? Laurie thought maybe she should move out soon -- her twentieth birthday was half a year away; had it been that long? -- but she didn't really want to live alone.

Laurie sighed and made her way back home. She was hoping her dad would have returned, and was happy to find him in the garage.

"Hey," said Blake, smiling and looking up as Laurie stood in the doorway.

"Hi Dad," said Laurie, clasping her hands in front of her as she watched him.

"Trying to figure out which tools will be the best for making your armor," he told her. "That, and looking through materials, too."

"That's good," Laurie smiled.

Laurie continued to watch her father as he scanned boxes and pulled out various implements. He glanced up at her after a while and stopped.

"You okay?" he asked her.

Laurie shrugged.

"I don't hear an answer," Blake said, putting a hand to his ear. Laurie laughed.

"I saw Dan today," she told him.

"Ah." Blake looked away and started to fiddle with some sheets of what looked like leather.

"He kept looking at me like I had the plague."

"Well, Walter made a point and he'd be an idiot not to listen to it, wouldn't he?"

"I guess."

Laurie looked down and sighed.

"Okay, what's really bothering you?" Blake set everything down and turned to her, leaning his back against the table with his arms folded.

"The fight."

"Ah."

"I don't know, Dad," Laurie sighed. "I guess I've never been in that state of mind before, but what is it like losing your temper like that? Do you ever look back on what you did and regret it? Do you ever try to stop?"

"Of course," Blake said. "But it's hard to stop things like that, at least for me -- guess it helps to try not to let shit get to you in the first place."

"I suppose I'm just trying to see it from... that point of view," Laurie said. "I wish I knew how to show Walter that he doesn't need to be like that."

Blake studied her for a long moment.

"When you're used to controlling something within yourself," said Blake, "And suddenly you are extended far beyond what you're used to, you try to force even more control onto it. Never works."

Laurie focused on looking at her father and absorbing the meaning behind his words.

"He's not an idiot," Blake pointed out. "But he's also a man, and as one man speaking for another, I would like to note that we are very appreciative of women who tell us what's acceptable and what's not."

"Not that we want a nag or anything," Blake said, turning away and fiddling with the things on his desk. The back of his neck was red. "But we don't read minds, and if you find something we're doing that's not okay, you put a stop to it the soon as you see it."

"So what do I tell him?" Laurie asked, folding her arms. Her father was embarrassed, and she was too, a little.

"Tell him -- hey, back off on the jealous shit, I don't like it," said Blake, pointing at the wall. "Well, something like that, anyway."

Laurie laughed.

"Thanks, Dad," she said. She felt a little relieved, though she couldn't imagine how she would ever have a conversation like that with Walter. That made her incredibly sad.

"Hey, no problem."

"Since we're being embarrassing," said Laurie, suddenly, "Are you going to ever get together with Mom?"

Blake paused for just a second.

"I guess that's up to her," he said. "Always was."

Laurie gave Blake a surprised smile.

-----

To be continued...


	42. Chapter 42

Ch. 42

Rorschach felt a little bad about breaking into Hollis' house, but it had to be done.

Hollis had luckily been asleep at that hour. Rorschach had sneaked into his study, where he went through his papers until he found what he wanted -- Dan's last name. Dreiberg.

Rorschach hoped Hollis didn't have two Dans in his life, and looked up the name's corresponding address in the phone book. Rorschach knew it must be correct, because it was in the neighborhood Nite Owl II had mentioned was his own, what seemed like years ago. Rorschach made his way to Dan Dreiberg's house, hoping he was making the right choice.

Rorschach briefly contemplated climbing through the window, or even breaking the lock and walking in, but that was a maniac's idea. Instead he knocked on the door, "like a normal human being", would be what Sally would say.

Dan answered the door after a couple of minutes and jumped back in shock.

"Oh God," said Dan, moving away very quickly. "You again."

"I'm not here to kill you," said Rorschach, though he couldn't help but cruelly add, "Not tonight."

"Oh?" asked Dan, adjusting his glasses and looking at him with a great degree of suspicion. "Then why are you here?"

Dan was wearing a neck brace, and there was a plaster on his nose. Walter felt bad and smug at the same time. He hoped he had left a scar that Dan would remember each time he thought of Laurie. No, he hadn't come all the way here to gloat -- what was he doing, thinking like that?

"I wanted to apologize," said Rorschach. "My behavior was unacceptable."

"Damn right it was," said Dan. He was sweating now, Rorschach could see.

"I am quite contrite, and I ask for your consideration towards my convivial extension of the right hand, so to speak."

"Well," Dan sighed, but he appeared to relax. "I really don't know what to say to that."

"Understandable, especially given the short time between our disagreement and now."

"You call that a disagreement?" asked Dan, in disbelief. "You tried to kill me."

"And I probably would too, if you try to touch Laurie again." Rorschach had to be honest here.

"What I don't get is why you go on about me and Laurie," exclaimed Dan. "I don't know what to be more insulted over, the fact that you think I'm going after her, or the fact that you think of killing me as if it were nothing."

"I can't help it," admitted Rorschach. "I'm new to this."

Dan gave Rorschach a confused look, but then it seemed to dawn on him. He really was smart when he used his brain.

"Well, I..." Dan tried to rub the back of his neck, then winced. "I don't know, Rorschach."

"All right," Rorschach shrugged. "Good night."

"Wait," Dan held up his hand. "Look, why don't we just... well, pretend wouldn't exactly be the word... Just... fine. Why don't we start over? Put this behind us."

Rorschach was surprised. He looked at Dan with apprehension.

"Yes?" asked Rorschach, tentatively. Dan just smiled at him.

"All right," he said, and held out his hand. "I'm Dan."

Rorschach took the hand.

"Uhm..."

They stood there awkwardly while Rorschach tried to figure out whether to refer to himself as his costumed persona or his secret identity. It wasn't like Dan didn't know either by now.

"Rorschach," he said, finally. Dan was nodding in that good natured manner of his; or the best he could, considering the brace.

"All right, Rorschach," said Dan. "Well, this was nice and all, and I really appreciate the... uh, time, you took the apologize. However, it's after midnight, and I'm still recovering from the beating you gave me."

Rorschach shrugged again.

"I'm sorry."

"Look, forget about it, all right?" Dan sighed. "I just... I don't know. I don't even know why I'm doing this."

Rorschach stared at Dan for a long while.

"Because you are a good man," Rorschach said. The realization made him uncomfortable, but he couldn't lie.

"Heh -- isn't that what they call pushovers?"

"Good night, Dan."

"Uh, good night. Rorschach."

Rorschach left the house. He felt a little odd, and just a tad bit ashamed. But only a little.

Rorschach started to walk to Blake's house out of habit, and stopped himself. He stared up at the night sky, cursing himself out for a long while before he gave up and continued on in the same direction. He hesitated outside Laurie's window, feeling like a pervert until he finally rapped on it.

Rorschach waited a long moment before Laurie appeared, looking wary. She brightened when she saw him. She unlocked the window and opened it.

"Walter," she whispered. "Is that really you? Or is it Agent Orange in disguise?"

"What if it had been?" Walter chided her gently, revealing his face and clenching his mask in his hand. He was vibrating with a nervous energy that he couldn't pinpoint the source of.

Laurie said nothing; just stepped aside and let him climb through the window.

"I apologized to Dan," Walter told her. Laurie looked surprised.

"You did?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Laurie looked a little guilty, and it made Walter react without thinking. Unfortunately, the reaction was that of anger.

"What is it?" he asked her, suspiciously.

"Well, I, uh..." Laurie blushed. "I went to see Dan today, actually."

Walter paused, not sure if he was really hearing what she was saying.

"Oh." He said, finally.

"Are you angry?"

"No." But disgusted and betrayed? Surely.

"I was worried about him, and my mother went with me -- he was at Hollis' house."

"Ah." Walter looked around the room before throwing up his hands. "Well, good night."

"Walter--"

Walter put his mask back on.

"Have to patrol," he told her. Then he left. Laurie was saying something, but he didn't want to listen.

He hadn't actually intended to patrol, of course. He ended up arriving at his apartment in a foul mood that dissipated as soon as he walked in and saw the note on the floor. Someone had slipped it under the crack in the door, and he knew for sure who that someone had been.

Rorschach looked around, making sure he really was alone, before he stooped down to pick it up. Only four words and a symbol, but it made Rorschach's stomach twist with unease.

"_No hard feelings_

_friend_"

Smile.

Rorschach started to breathe heavily. Was that a threat? Or the man's idea of some sort of truce? Rorschach tried to find the hidden intentions, the feeling behind the words, but like anything behind the man's smiling face, there really was only pure thought in this note and nothing else.

Rorschach paced the room. He could find Agent Orange, tell him to go to hell; maybe really kill him, after all. No, no, he wasn't thinking right. Why did he think that was the only solution now? That was the sort of thing Rorschach would have thought. God, Rorschach -- he wanted to think Rorschach was something outside of him, some crazy part of himself that had become alien through the course of his life experiences. But Rorschach was really _him_, wasn't it? Walter was Rorschach, Rorschach was Walter. If that was the case, then Walter really was a sick bastard. There, he said it.

Walter was Rorschach was Walter, and there was nothing he could do about that. Damn Agent Orange making things so complicated _didn't help_.

Rorschach agonized for a long while before he returned to Blake's house. Laurie's window was dark again, and he quietly tried it to make sure she had locked it. Good. But he still worried, so he waited outside her window, looking out into the night to see if he would spot Agent Orange peering out at him from the darkness. Damn him to hell and back just to damn him there again. Rorschach spent all night outside Laurie's window, stewing in his thoughts and hating everything. He even waited until he was sure Blake was awake, at least, then he headed home and changed for work.

It was close to lunchtime when Laurie came into the shop, surprising Walter. It wasn't the fact that she had somehow found out where he worked. He was more surprised that he had been made to see her this soon -- he wasn't ready for her right now. Not in this state. There was so much more he had to sort out in his mind before he could talk to her again. But there she was looking as pretty ever and as apprehensive as anything.

Laurie looked around tentatively before she spotted Walter and waved at him from the door. She seemed apologetic and didn't step any further inside. Walter looked at Mr. Petersen, who was trying to measure a dummy with shaking hands. The old man probably wouldn't mind, but Walter quietly crept to Laurie anyway.

"Laurie," he whispered.

"I'm sorry Walter," she said, frowning. "I asked Mr. Greer for the address to where you worked. He was surprised I didn't know -- I just said I had the address at some point, just didn't remember."

Laurie seemed to have some amount of bitterness in her voice.

"Could I talk to you?" she asked him.

"I can't. At work," he told her.

"Well, all right then."

"I will be free in fifteen minutes."

Laurie nodded sighed.

"I'll wait outside," she told him, managing a smile.

Walter spent the next fifteen minutes with his palms sweating and his heart beating hard in his chest. He had to dry his hands on a towel before he came out of the shop in order to take Laurie's hand. Laurie held on to his hand as if her life depended on it.

"Walter," she said, after they had turned the corner behind the building to a more secluded area. "What's going on?"

Walter blinked at her. Was he really that apparent? Did she know?

"Is everything all right?" she asked.

"Yes." For someone else in the world, but not him, for sure.

"I just feel like things are getting out of hand," Laurie explained. "I wish we could talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Not even yesterday? When you walked off so abruptly?"

"I had to patrol."

"You had to patrol," Laurie sighed. "I wish you wouldn't talk to me in that voice."

"What voice?"

"The... The Rorschach voice," she said, letting go of his hand so she could gesture with both of hers. "You get so cold when you use that voice, Walter."

"Then you will have to get used to it," he told her. "It's the only voice I have."

"What are you saying? That you're just going to be Rorschach now?"

"I am Rorschach -- I always was. Walter _is_ Rorschach, whether he likes it or not."

"And does Rorschach still want to be involved with Laurie?" she asked, folding her arms.

"I don't know."

Laurie looked as shocked as he felt. He felt immediate remorse and quickly hugged her. She felt cold in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking into her eyes, but her eyes had a strange glint to them.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked him.

"_I don't know._"

Walter pulled away and put his hands to his face. He wanted to tell her that he felt like he was drowning, that he felt like he was going insane -- that he was losing himself in a darkness he didn't understand. His hold on his life was slipping around him, and there was nothing left to grasp on to. Nothing left but himself, and he _hated_ himself.

"Then what's going on, Walter?" Laurie asked, approaching him. "Are you saying you want to break up with me?"

"No!" God, don't do this, Laurie. Agent Orange was ruining everything about crime fighting, everything about it that was important to him. With that gone, she was all he had left.

"Then tell me," Laurie said, placing a trembling hand on his wrist. "Why won't you tell me anything, Walter?"

"I tell you many things," Walter was astonished.

"No you don't -- I don't even know your last name, or where you live--"

"It's Kovacs." Walter was trying to control his emotions, but it wasn't working.

"I know that now; Mr. Greer told me--"

"Then it all worked out for you, didn't it? Why don't you ask Mr. Greer where I live too?"

"I don't want him to--"

"Then what's the issue?"

"I want _you_ to do it," Laurie was brushing back tears now. "I wish you could trust me enough to tell me a simple thing like that. I shouldn't have to ask your ex-employer where you live, for crying out loud."

"Look me up in the phone book then, if it's so important to you," Walter told her, folding his arms.

Laurie stared at him. She didn't even bother trying to hide the tears and let them fall. Walter frowned as she turned away from him. He didn't even remember why he had been so adamantly against her finding out where she lived, but it all seemed so embarrassing now. There was a stubborn part of him that never wanted to tell her now that they had had this conversation, and he felt terrible. His mother was right -- she should have had that abortion. God, why was he thinking about her _now_? Why was he such a disgusting specimen of human life? He wished he had never met Laurie. He was sure he had ruined her, somehow. He had carried along with his serious intentions until it all came down to this. This mess. He hated it.

Laurie seemed to be attempting to say something, but she couldn't over her own sobbing. She just shook her head and started to walk away. He still had time to stop her, even as she got further into the distance he still had time to run and catch up to her. But he didn't. He wished he was dead.

Feeling thoroughly disgusted with himself, Walter went straight to his apartment. It wasn't until he had been home an hour that he remembered he had left work on his break and never went back. Maybe he would get fired and that would be the end of that, too. What was the point? Just live out in the goddamn street -- who cared. Agent Orange cleaned the place up proper, didn't he? Nobody needed Rorschach around. And he had royally screwed up his chances with Laurie, so Walter wasn't needed either. Feeling sick and angry, Walter trashed the place. He had half a mind to burn down the whole building.

Disgusting, backwards freak -- the world was a better place without Walter Kovacs.

-----

To be continued...


	43. Chapter 43

Ch. 43

It was hard enough dealing with something like this, let alone while pretending nothing had ever happened. At first, Laurie had hoped that Walter would come back, but he hadn't. After waiting for some time, Laurie had even wondered if she should talk to him. However, some part of her figured if that he hadn't told her where he lived, why should she have to bother looking him up?

Was that right? Was it right to think like that? Laurie couldn't even figure out if they had broken up or not. He had been so adamantly against it, as if her suggesting that he was implying it in his tone was outrageous to him. If that was the case, then why didn't he care enough to find her and work this out?

Laurie desperately wanted to tell someone -- she feared that her mother would laugh at her, that her father might get unnecessarily angry with Walter -- who else did she have after that? Dan? Laurie laughed bitterly at the thought. She hadn't even seen much of Nelly nowadays to talk to him about something like this. How could she even begin explaining to him now?

The months flew by, and Laurie slowly got better physically, but she only felt worse each passing day. The elections came and with them, a new president. Around that time, her father seemed to lose all luster for life, as well. She was probably contagious. Laurie's birthday came and went. Her father finished her armor in time to present it to her. She thanked him, but went into her room afterwards and quietly cried.

Her father, in a more aware state had asked her at some point where Walter was. She had told him he was busy. He looked disappointed and didn't ask again. Her mother was more persistent, and Laurie tried to avoid talking to her as much as possible. Laurie really didn't have anything left. So what else could she do besides go back out into the night?

Laurie put on her new costume, marveling at how protected she felt encased in thick leather. Her outfit hadn't changed drastically -- just more straps here and there, but she felt slightly heavier. Maybe she was out of shape, too. Or maybe it was her heart that weighed her down.

She patrolled lighter areas at first, and she was surprised to find the streets were pretty quiet. Agent Orange hadn't been heard from in six months, and the criminals were still cowering somewhere. Maybe they had all gone to the sewers like Underboss.

Laurie -- well, Nightshade -- wondered if Rorschach was out there somewhere, keeping tabs on everything; knowing where all the secret hideouts were. She ached to see him, but at the same time it scared her to think about him. She tried to put him out of her mind the best she could. In this state she could do without the distraction.

Nightshade made her rounds by herself, feeling unbelievably lonely. She looked around for Nite Owl II, even Ozymandias -- but everything was dead around her. She moved out into the crowded areas, and was surprised to find some wells of petty crime throughout. It seemed even the criminals stuck to public places now. Nightshade took care of some gang members mugging a man and felt better about herself. All the old moves were returning to her, and she was back out in the street again.

Nightshade had been out a few days before she realized that there was someone watching her. It was a man who stuck to the shadows, and at first glance he seemed to be wearing something bulky. On second glance she realized he was wearing a costume. A crime fighter?

The next day, he was all over the newspapers. A new kind of super villain -- Captain Carnage. Of course Nelly had to call for a well overdue Crimebusters meeting after that.

Nightshade really didn't want to go, but sometimes you just had to do things whether you liked them or not. Going to that meeting was like pulling teeth, but Nightshade went there anyway. She walked in to find Nelly setting up. Nobody was there yet. Good -- she could busy herself with something before everyone else arrived, minimize the embarrassment.

"Do you need help with anything, Uncle Nelly?" she asked.

Nelly looked up and seemed surprised.

"Oh, Laurie--" he said. "It's been so long since I last saw you. You've really grown up, haven't you?"

"I have?" she laughed. She never paid attention to that sort of thing. "I suppose so."

"Here, I've been trying to highlight the articles on Captain Carnage in various papers. Why don't you scan through to make sure I got all the facts down? I wrote them down here."

Nightshade sat down and did as she was told. She was nervous, and it was hard to read anything in that state of mind, but she tried. Half an hour had gone by before she realized that nobody else was going to show up.

"Well, I guess everybody is busy," Nelly said, looking disappointed.

"Yes, I suppose so," said Nightshade, trying to hide her anger. She went out into the street that night and was especially violent towards any law-breakers that she saw. She went home in a bad mood, only to find her father waiting for her. Whatever it was, it didn't look good. At first, she was sure Walter had befallen an accident, the way her father was looking at her. But no -- it was something else.

"Laurie," said Blake, as Laurie came in.

"Hi Dad," said Laurie, making a quick scan around the room. Was that a duffel bag at the foot of the stairs?

"Well," Blake straightened as he looked at Laurie, avoiding her eyes, "I'm leaving tonight."

"Where to?"

"Got called to 'Nam. Couple of hours ago."

"The war?" Laurie couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I thought... I thought you'd already been to war. World War II?"

"Yeah," Blake sighed. "I have. But I work for the government, and they want me to help them intervene."

"When are you coming back?"

"When the war's over."

"When will that be?"

"I don't know, Laurie."

"Can't you just not go?"

Blake was silent for a long while. He wasn't looking at her.

"No," he said, finally. "I have a duty to serve this country."

"Haven't you already served it enough, Dad?"

"Laurie--"

"What if you die out there?" Laurie wiped at her eyes. "What if I don't see you again?"

"I'm...I'm sure I'll be fine." Blake's eyes had gone glassy. "Don't worry about me."

"Of course I'll worry," Laurie said, shuddering from her effort not to cry. "You're my Dad."

"Yeah, and not a very good one, if you ask me."

"No -- you are." Laurie wanted to hug him, but she knew she would lose her control if she did. "Dad -- how could you just leave like this? I didn't even have time to prepare. You didn't either."

Blake looked horribly guilty. Laurie had a feeling he had known for quite some time now.

"I'm sorry, Laurie," he said. And he did indeed look sorry. "I'm really sorry, but there's nothing I can do."

"You can do something," she told him. "Tell them you won't do it. They can't make you."

"Laurie..."

"Where am I going to live?" Laurie started to panic. "I don't want to go back to Mom's."

"You don't have to."

"She'll say bad things about you; say I made a bad choice to stay here with you."

"Laurie, you don't have to go anywhere." Blake held out his hand. "You can stay here. The house isn't going to go with me."

Laurie looked around at the house that seemed so much bigger and colder now at the prospect of Blake's absence. And she didn't even have Walter, either. Laurie put her face in her hands and cried silently.

Blake stood by, looking stricken. Laurie looked up and approached him, putting her head on his chest because that was as far as she could reach.

"Dad, things have been terrible," Laurie told him. "I don't even know if I broke up with Walter or not."

"What?"

"I haven't talked to him in months, many months, Dad -- we fought about the stupidest thing; he couldn't tell me where he lived, and after that I never saw him again. Why would anybody break up over something like that? If we could have at least ended it then it wouldn't be so bad, maybe, but I hate being like this, being in limbo and strung along waiting for something that isn't happening." Laurie cried so hard she thought she was going to black out. "It's so hard, living with nobody but him and you and Mom -- I find it so hard to tell Mom things, and Walter's gone, and now you're leaving too."

"Laurie." Blake sounded astonished.

"Dad, you can't go -- you shouldn't have to go," Laurie looked up at him, pleading with her hands and her eyes. "That war is terrible. People say it shouldn't be happening. People say we never should have gotten involved. It's bad for us, and it's going to be bad for you, and when you come back you won't be you anymore, and I won't see you ever again."

Laurie moved away, pacing in the way that Walter so loved to do.

"Everything's lost around me, Dad -- what's wrong with me? I wish I could be normal like everybody else, have friends, be something other than a crime fighter. That's not an identity; that's just an excuse. Something we came up with to really avoid looking at ourselves. I look at myself and I don't see anybody but a scared girl who's lost a big part of her life to an emptiness that should never have been there."

Silence.

Laurie looked up at her father again.

"Please don't leave, Dad."

Blake looked down and shook his head.

Ten minutes later, he was gone.

Laurie didn't have any tears left to shed. She sat on the living room couch, dazed. Suddenly, she felt weak, so she lay down and fell asleep. When she awoke, the sun was deceptively cheery and bright and for one wonderful moment she thought the night before had been a terrible dream. Realization made it all the more painful than the first time she found out. Laurie stood up and went to the mantelpiece, touching the pictures, some of people she never knew, and some of people that meant so much to her. She pulled down the picture from 1940. The Minutemen. Brothers, comrades, friends, lovers, all of them, bound together by their cause -- brought together by the one thing they had in common. What a lie it all was. The Minutemen, with only each other to rely on, had torn one another apart. Seeing her father looking so young and carefree -- only slightly jaded, oh so very cocky -- a picture taken before a mistake that spiraled out into something beyond control, it broke her heart. She saw her mother standing behind him looking so radiant and innocent and beautiful. Regret, so much regret poured over Laurie then, over circumstances that were beyond her. Things that she couldn't have controlled even if she had existed back then. Regret for things that could have been, of her parents being together, of her living with both of their love from the start. Would she have been a different person, then? Laurie imagined how, growing up with her father, she would have just told him -- she would have told him she didn't want to fight crime, and he would have let her do what she wanted to do. She never would have gone out into the streets to show her mother; but then she never would have met Walter.

Laurie cried, not wanting to think too much about him, but he was all she had left to think about. Her head was telling her that she should move on and try to take some sort of control of her life, to let go of this man who had so much in him but could only give so little. But she couldn't do it -- she couldn't let go. Her heart was stretched beyond anything she could bear and it only hurt to think about him, but she still loved him and that was the most agonizing part of it all. She just couldn't let go. Laurie knew her father hadn't let go of her mother, either. And look how he was, trying to make some sort of sense in life, stumbling and finding nothing and in the end dying in a war that had no purpose.

Laurie didn't mean in the physical sense, either. That war tore a person apart and though she didn't like to focus on it, she had seen enough of it to know that this war was damning to them all. She was certain her father knew even better than her, and that was the worst of it. Her father had so much insight -- he saw into things that people would miss otherwise, and yet he continued on this path of destruction. He was digging a hole for himself to fall into and Laurie couldn't bear to watch it. She wondered how her mother, if she had ever loved him, could allow him to throw himself down like this.

Looking up, Laurie felt like a hypocrite. She wanted to learn from her parents' mistakes, and yet she was repeating them. Here she had a man that she loved, and she was letting him go down a dark road that was getting more difficult to turn back from with each passing moment. She knew she couldn't control his actions or make his decisions for him, but she could give him a light that he could follow out. Avoid this tragedy.

Setting the picture down, Laurie stood up and went to the phone book. She looked up a name. An address. Then she sat down and wrote a letter. She got showered, dressed, and went out. If the world was going to keep moving and leave her behind, she was going to do her best to keep up with it, even if she kept getting kicked down. She'd been stabbed before, and she could be stabbed again. She was just going to keep going until someone really did kill her -- and she wasn't thinking of it in a metaphorical sense, either.

-----

To be continued...


	44. Chapter 44

Ch. 44

The days went by so fast.

That was the only way he could explain how he had gone so long without talking to Laurie. He was always watching her though; he worried for her still. At night she haunted his dreams, the ones that stretched out into nightmares and had him bolting upright, so utterly awake and drenched in sweat. He wished he could talk to her, but all he could do was watch her. He waited for her to say something, give him any indication that she still cared for him, that she didn't hate him. If she did he'd rather know quickly and crawl off to deal with any heart he had left after it was crushed. At the same time, he would rather not know. He would rather continue to hope that she still wanted him, disgusting as he was. He was afraid that if he approached her, talked to her, she would take away even his hope and he would have nothing. He was afraid she would tell him she wished he was dead and that he would be compelled to listen. On the other hand, he also wished she would tell him -- just die already, and he would gladly do it. End this wretched existence, snuff himself out and make room for another bag of flesh to take his place. No one would miss him, anyway; good riddance.

Walter was surprised he had continued to go to work in this state. Mr. Petersen was a mess, however. He had started to become forgetful, and would sometimes stop in mid sentence and continue on with something else as if he had never spoken. Walter buried himself in the only work he had left. He still went out at night, but there wasn't anything there for him to do. For a couple of months he had kept his watch out for Agent Orange, but he had disappeared as if he had never existed. Maybe someone had gotten to him at last. Maybe his body was out there somewhere, rotting in some stale overlooked corner, becoming bloated and rotted and forgotten just as he would be.

Briefly Walter had considered finding Agent Orange, not to arrest him or accost him but to tell him, really tell him what he had done. The events that he had created to pull Walter into this sort of torment that made mere physical pain nothing compared to it. That made him laugh. What a ridiculous concept, explaining the complexities of emotion to a man who felt nothing. He was sure even Dr. Manhattan felt more than this psychopath. Was it ironic that he was all Walter had left? He wandered the streets as Rorschach, sometimes seeing Nite Owl II, ever polite, but cordially distant. Ozymandias had disappeared, and of course, Laurie, dear Laurie, was still at home quietly waiting for her body to heal.

It was around June of 1969 when Walter began receiving postcards. All from different Californian attractions, all with only one symbol -- a smile. Cocky bastard, I'm not following you to California. Or was this a friendly correspondence? Was Walter his only link to this world, some twisted sort of acquaintance that served only as a sort of grounding tool to keep him from drifting too far beyond reality? It would be ironic, if that was the case, considering Walter's bitter view of the man who was almost an adversary, more a symbol of his dark life than anything. Whatever any of this was, Walter didn't need it. Agent Orange could rot in California for all he cared. They had crime fighters there; they could deal with it. He just wanted Laurie back.

It wasn't until Rorschach saw her again that he realized how much time had gone by. She had come back only a week before, and briefly he considered joining her in the street; just walk up to her and join her side like he used to. He didn't want to see her disgust, however. He didn't want to see her repulsion, her utter abhorrence of his presence. In the end, all he could do was watch.

A few days later, Walter got the message from Nelson regarding the Crimebusters meeting and he almost went. He just couldn't, though. He didn't want to -- not right now. If Laurie had something to say to him he didn't want her to say it in front of Nelson, in front of Adrian, in front of _Dan_. They had formed some sort of business relationship, him and Dan. Sort of like two patrol officers who would nod to one another if they happened to cross paths. But even so, Dan was someone that was difficult to think about, given the fact that Walter now associated him with the downward turn of events that had gotten him into this rotten situation.

No, Walter didn't go.

He continued to watch Laurie, and a few days had gone by before he realized the Comedian, Blake, hadn't been around for a while. He noticed that Laurie ate breakfast alone, dinner alone. Sometimes he would stop by on his lunch break, too hungry for her to focus on the need to sate his stomach and she would be eating lunch alone. Why didn't she interact with her mother, at least? Then again, her mother wasn't always so easy to get along with, was she?

No, Blake was gone, and Walter wondered where to. He had an idea, but he just didn't want to think about it. He would watch Laurie and she would appear so sad, sometimes she would look out her window and almost see him. She never did though; he always hid now. He didn't want her to see him, not now, not like this.

One day ago, Walter received a letter. For one instant he was sure it was Agent Orange until he realized it was a woman's writing, and on reading the return address realized it was Laurie.

He didn't open the letter, so afraid of the contents was he. He let it under the cabinet and paced the room until he felt guilty for throwing her letter there with Agent Orange's disgusting writings. He pulled her letter out again and held it to his chest, somehow pleading with it to contain hope, something good, not abject horror as he was imagining it to be.

Walter opened the letter and read it:

"_Dear Walter,_

_Please come and talk to me._

_--Laurie._"

It wasn't bad news, but it wasn't exactly good, was it? What was her intent? He couldn't tell. But she had written to him, hadn't she? She had reached out to him, and if there was any loathing towards him on her part, it was not apparent in her flowing words.

Rorschach set out that night in search for Nightshade. He saw her in the distance -- she seemed to be steadying herself, sitting down on an abandoned crate with her face briefly in her hand before she glanced around, on guard.

Rorschach didn't like the look she had on her face. It made him quite unsettled. For one terrifying moment he was so certain that he would turn away, run like the coward he was. No -- he was going to stop this. Put an end to his misery, or allow her to deal the final blow and be done and over with. Anything could be better than this uncertainty. He showed himself.

Nightshade seemed to look through him at first, until her eyes widened in shock. She stood up very quickly as he approached her, looking quite guarded.

"Rorschach?" she asked him.

Rorschach nodded, but that didn't seem to satisfy her.

"How do I know it's really you?" she asked him in a suspicious tone.

"It's me," he assured her quietly.

Now she looked relieved, and he felt a little better about himself. He came closer to her.

"I know they haven't talked about Agent Orange in a long while," Nightshade said, "But I can't help but be paranoid that one of these days he or someone else will dress up as you and stab me, or something..."

Rorschach paused, a little surprised by her way of thinking. It didn't sound like how she would see the world at all. Rorschach came out of his thoughts to realize that Nightshade had been looking at him. Had she said something to him? No, it seemed she was waiting for him to speak, but he didn't really have anything to say.

"So," said Nightshade, in a curt voice, "Long time no see, Rorschach."

Rorschach nodded to her. God, he wished he could stop nodding like a fool and actually _say something_.

"You appeared disturbed, so I came to see if you needed any assistance," he told her.

Nightshade looked at him, and for one moment he could see the hurt in her eyes. Then it was gone -- she was getting better at masking her emotions. Was that all his doing? Or something else?

"I thought maybe you had received my letter," she said.

"I did."

"Ah. Well -- I ran into Captain Carnage," she told him, politely. "He is disturbing to say the least."

"Why?"

"I don't know... it... doesn't matter. That's not what we should be discussing here."

Rorschach stood and waited for her. Finally, she turned and looked at him; her feelings were back again and blazing in her eyes.

"Why do you even care, Rorschach?" she asked him. "You've been gone forever. You never said anything to me, and suddenly you're back and want to know every detail about my life. You want to own it all, own _me_ and you give me nothing in return. Well, what happened with Captain Carnage is none of your business."

Rorschach said nothing, and that seemed to frustrate her even more.

"Walter, what are we, really?" she asked, in an edgy voice. She pulled off her mask and roughly pocketed it to look at him clearly. "We never said anything about us, and where we stood. We just had that argument and that was that. So what are we? Are we still seeing each other but on a really long break? Or do we hate each other now? Tell me."

"We're whatever you want us to be," he told her.

Laurie looked angry.

"Are you saying that we're in this mess because of me?" she asked him. "I want us to be shitty, so we're that, is that it?"

"No," he was taken aback by her language.

"You know what I want? I want us to have a normal relationship. Yeah -- seeing as I never really saw one unfold in front of my eyes, it's kind of hard to want that, but that's still the case. I want someone who will love me and be there for me. Someone who will trust me and not walk away from any problem that comes up because he's _scared_."

Rorschach really didn't know how to respond, so he continued to stand silent.

"Dammit, Walter," Laurie whispered. "At least just say that it's over if it is. I don't want it to be like this -- it's torture."

"I don't want this either."

"Then what do you want? Just tell me -- stop saying things are all on me, and for once just tell me what _you _want."

"I want," Rorschach paused, feeling awkward, "I want to be with you."

"Then why aren't you?" Laurie threw up her hands. "You know what's crazy? I want to be with you too -- but for some reason, we aren't. Why is that?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know -- I know you do. Talk to me. Say anything," Laurie was looking desperately at him now. "_Please_."

"I love you."

Laurie looked taken aback.

"What?"

"I love you." Rorschach glanced around before he pulled off his hat, his mask. He looked at her and hoped that she could see in his eyes that he was being true.

"I love you too -- you know that?" Laurie's eyes were glistening with tears. "But you don't run away from people you love."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologizing--"

"I do."

"--When you repeat yourself too much, pretty soon those words lose their meaning. What are you sorry about? Tell me."

"I have a hard time..." Walter felt something was choking him, making him swallow his words, but he didn't want to. "I find it very difficult to express myself."

Laurie smiled sadly at him.

"But you have so much there to express, Walter."

"I do."

"Give me something, anything." Laurie was closer to him now, close enough that he could smell her, that sweet scent he caught at night in his dreams, when his dreams were better before they always became worse.

Walter kissed her instead. She gasped when their lips met unexpectedly, but she quickly threw her arms around his neck and sank into him. He put his hands on her back and drew her close to him, trembling at that contact he had pined for the months they had been apart. Standing there in the dark, face exposed and with her warm body pressed against him Walter lost himself in their kiss. Pushing into her, he tried to convey to her things he couldn't with words. Words seemed to freeze up as they came out of him, only to come out cold and distant, dropping from his lips like ice. The kiss required no cerebral action, no forming of rational decision, no search for the word with the perfect meaning that diluted the deep feeling that lay beneath it. Walter gave himself into that one kiss, clinging to it as if it were his only option left for him to live. He could feel her breath combined with his as her lips, so soft, yielded so easily against his own.

"Walter," said Laurie, and her eyes were full of tears again. Walter wished he could make them go away -- it seemed all he ever did was make her cry.

"I'm sorry for leaving you," he said to her, as he touched his forehead to hers. "I was just so certain that you hated me. Didn't want to see it if it was true."

"I don't think I could hate you if I tried."

Walter smiled at that -- he was so sure she could find a billion reasons to hate him if she put her mind to it.

"I'll try harder," he told her. "I'm very sorry. I'll...I'll make up for it. All of it; all of this."

"I know, Walter," Laurie was kissing him now. "Just don't leave me again."

"I won't."

Smiling, Laurie gave him one more kiss before she took his hand. Walter allowed her to take him home. Yes, it was his home as well as hers now, wasn't it?

-----

To be continued...


	45. Chapter 45

Ch. 45

Laurie didn't see the card stuck to the door until she and Rorschach were all the way up the front steps to Blake's house.

"Huh," said Laurie, reaching out and taking the card.

Laurie started to open it, when Rorschach snatched the card out of her hands.

"Walter," Laurie exclaimed.

Rorschach ignored her and pulled the card out and read it. He shrugged and held it out to her.

"Just a Crimebusters invitation," he told her.

"Well thank you," said Laurie, taking the card away from him. She glanced at it. It was a meeting request for tomorrow evening.

"Wanted to make sure it was safe," he told her, in a wounded tone.

"Walter, honestly, there aren't very many people out there who would send me a card, let alone one that's unsafe."

Laurie fiddled with the lock as Rorschach came closer.

"I thought it might be Agent Orange," he told her, while looking over her shoulder.

Laurie turned to look at Rorschach, noting how close he was hovering over her.

"Why on earth would Agent Orange send me a card?" she asked. Distracted, the bouquet Agent Orange had sent her was far from her mind. Rorschach finally reached around her and unlocked the door. Laurie glanced at it, then at him as she stepped inside.

Rorschach shrugged as he followed behind her. Laurie turned on the lights and Rorschach closed the door and locked it. Then he took his hat, mask, and gloves off and set them aside.

Laurie placed the card down on the table near the door as a reminder, then moved into the living room with Walter close behind.

"I'm sure Nelly wants to talk about Captain Carnage, since nobody showed up at the meeting the last time."

"Hmm."

Laurie turned to Walter and smiled at him. He was smiling back a little tentatively as she took his face in her hands and started to lean in. Then he frowned.

"What happened with you and Captain Carnage?" he asked her.

"What?" Laurie paused, halfway through closing the gap between them. She straightened. "Walter."

"I need to know."

Laurie blinked at him in disbelief.

"Why do you _need_ to know about Captain Carnage?" asked Laurie. "Right now, of all times?"

"I just want to know, that's all."

"Why now? Can't we talk about it later?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I keep wondering what happened."

"And?"

"I won't be able to perform properly if I'm thinking about it."

Walter turned red even as the words left his lips.

"I don't mean it like that," he said, quickly, "I get really focused on things and can't concentrate on anything else."

"You mean you can't concentrate on this instead?" Laurie asked him, as she grabbed his hands and put them on her chest.

Walter's eyes went wide and he looked at her, aghast, almost offended. Laurie noticed he didn't make any move to remove his hands, however.

"I just keep thinking about the things that could have happened between you and Captain Carnage," he told her.

Laurie laughed.

"Okay, fine," she said, as she stroked Walter's hands thoughtfully. "Well, I first saw him a few days before he appeared on the papers."

Walter's eyes flickered downwards for a moment, but then he was looking her in the eyes again.

"He was stalking me, I think," she told him. "I almost caught him a few times before this, but tonight was when I finally came face to face with him."

Walter nodded and suddenly seemed very nervous.

"He appeared across the street from me," said Laurie, "I started chasing him, and he was throwing money at my feet, shouting something about how he stole it. He ran into an alley and I cornered him and started beating him, and..."

Laurie frowned.

"What?" Walter asked her.

"Well, that's when it got really weird," she told him."

"What happened?" Walter looked pale now.

"I don't know, it's..." Laurie sighed. "Well, he was... was... moaning, and saying, 'Yes! Yes! I've been so bad!', things like that. He was writhing all over the place, and I was getting disturbed and let up a little, and he started screaming and saying, 'No! Harder! Please, oh god!'"

"What?" Walter asked, taking his hands away.

"I told you it was weird," Laurie exclaimed as she threw up her hands. "I was so creeped out I told him to beat himself if he liked it so much, and..."

Laurie put a hand to her mouth, remembering the vivid image of Captain Carnage's face looking up at her from the ground in the dark alley.

"What?" Walter asked her, in a demanding voice. "What happened?"

"Well," Laurie laughed, "He said, 'I beat myself every night thinking about you.' Took me a moment to realize what he meant -- couldn't even kick him in the face for saying it because I knew he'd enjoy it too much. I turned and ran away from the alley as he screamed at me to come back. Can you believe it?"

Walter looked like he had been carved from stone.

"Walter?" Laurie asked, waving her hand in front of his eyes. Walter took her wrist and held fast.

"I will kill him," he told her.

"Oh god no, Walter," said Laurie, horrified.

"Oh god yes, Laurie," he said. "He's disgusting."

"Can't you just... I don't know, arrest him or something? Maybe they'll take him to the mental institution and lock him up... then he won't get any beatings in."

Laurie smiled at the thought, but Walter seemed to be drained of all humor at that moment. He just shook his head at her solemnly.

"Oh, Walter," said Laurie, kissing him. She silently hoped that Nite Owl II or Ozymandias would find Captain Carnage and put him in prison before Rorschach got to him.

Walter put his arms around her and pulled her close to him. Laurie quietly stood with him for a long moment in his arms, until she got ideas in her head that she couldn't resist. Laurie kissed Walter's ear briefly before she moved to his mouth. If he was thinking about killing Captain Carnage, Laurie couldn't tell.

Laurie snaked her hands up Walter's chest as she continued to kiss him. She untied the scarf from his neck and discarded it to the side. She got hold of the collar on his coat and pulled it back off his shoulders. He didn't complain when she removed it, then his suit jacket, even his tie, but he stopped her when she started to unbutton his shirt.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, with his hands on her forearms.

"It's too hot in here," she told him, with a smile. "I thought I'd help you, Walter."

"I'm fine."

"You wear too many layers."

"It's practical."

"Oh, come on," she said, as she untucked his shirt.

"I don't see you stripping inappropriately in the living room," he pointed out. Then his eyes widened as he seemed to realize what he had inadvertently suggested to her.

"Fine," she said, unstrapping her armor and letting it fall to the floor.

"You don't have to," Walter protested. But he didn't stop her as she pulled off her boots, tossed them aside, then unzipped her costume and climbed out of it. Unfortunately -- or fortunately -- her costume was only one piece, so now she was standing in front of him in her undergarments.

"Okay, _now_ you're over dressed," Laurie told him. Walter seemed to have gone speechless.

Laurie pushed Walter onto the couch and climbed onto his lap. He didn't say a word as she kissed his throat, then unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and opened it. He shuddered when she kissed his chest, and his arms seemed to have gone limp as she pulled his shirt off and flung it aside.

Walter finally seemed to find his voice when she gave him a look before she reached for his pants.

"What are we doing?" he asked her, stopping her again.

"What?" Laurie asked, freezing in bewilderment.

"Is this leading somewhere?"

"I...I don't know," said Laurie. "Maybe."

"I need to know how far we are taking this."

Laurie bit her tongue to keep from snapping at him. She had asked him to express himself more, and he seemed to be doing it in more ways than she imagined him to.

"Walter," she said, kissing him gently, "Do you have to analyze every single thing that goes on?"

"I just want to know what's expected of me," he told her.

"I don't know," said Laurie. "I just want to be with you, that's all. It doesn't need to... to... lead to sex or anything."

Laurie looked away, a little embarrassed.

Walter nodded.

"All right," he said, giving her an almost pained look. Laurie felt bad.

"Walter, do you think things are going too fast?" she asked him.

"Yes," he said, looking relieved.

"Well," Laurie frowned. "I guess it's kind of too much at once, isn't it? It's just that I'm so glad you're back, and I... I missed you."

Walter nodded but said nothing. He looked guilty.

"It's okay," she told him, as she took his hand. "Here, why don't we go to bed?"

Walter gave her a wide eyed look, and Laurie had to hold up her hands.

"Not like that," she said, laughing in her nervousness, "I mean, just like normal; for sleeping."

Walter seemed perfectly keen on this idea. They climbed into bed together, but Laurie didn't feel like sleeping at all. Lying there in bed next to Walter, she was quite content with watching him instead. Walter stared back at her with what looked like amazement in his eyes. She supposed she had the same look in her eyes, as well -- it seemed surreal to find him back with her again. She half-expected her father to come back as if he had never left. Of course, that wouldn't be ideal at that moment, considering their clothes were still all of the living room floor.

Smiling, Laurie leaned in and started to kiss Walter. If he had any qualms about this arrangement, he didn't show it. She ran her fingers down his arm, marveling at the cords of strong muscle that ran over it. She moved her hand to his waist as she pulled him close to her, the bare skin of their bellies brushing against the other. Laurie couldn't help but moan at the contact. Walter pulled back his head to look at her apprehensively, though his eyes seemed more drunken now, and his lips were red from their impassioned kissing. Laurie put her lips to his throat again, running her hand up his stomach and over his chest.

Walter pushed Laurie onto her back as he kissed her lips, under her chin, her throat, and her clavicle. Laurie closed her eyes as Walter touched her hips, then her breasts, with trembling hands. He moved very slowly as he kissed her sternum and downwards, moving to her stomach, then further below, near her hip. He ran his fingers tentatively down her legs and kissed her thigh.

"Walter," said Laurie, gasping at the sensation.

Walter's head snapped up as he stared at her as if in shock.

"I'm sorry," he said, eyes wide with what looked like panic.

"What?" Laurie asked, looking at him. "Why are you sorry?"

Walter was shaking his head and giving her that tortured look again.

"Didn't mean to," he said.

"Didn't mean what?" Laurie placed her hand on his face, and he seemed to be shaking with emotion.

"Mother was a prostitute," he told her, his words strangled as if he was choking on them. "Don't want to see you like that, don't mean to treat you--"

He turned his face away from her, shoulders shaking.

"Walter," said Laurie, shocked. She grabbed Walter's head and placed it to her neck and held him there.

"I thought he was hurting her," he told her, his voice a muffled hiss against her shoulder. "Didn't want her hurt.. Don't want to hurt you."

Walter was sobbing now, utter anguish in his voice as he tried to say things to her that were incoherent. Laurie held onto him, afraid that he would fall apart on her if she let go. His hands were against her ribcage, clasping so hard it almost hurt. He made a rasping sound in his throat as if he was going to start screaming, but it cut off to more sobs.

"Walter, it's all right," Laurie told him. She didn't think he could hear her, but she tried anyway. "Shh..."

Laurie stroked his hair, then his back as he went silent. He was trembling in her arms, and she could feel the tears pooling on her throat.

"You would never hurt me, Walter," Laurie said, gently. "You love me, don't you?"

Walter nodded, though he didn't look up.

"Prostitutes," Laurie paused as Walter flinched at that word. "Prostitutes sell their bodies -- I think what they do is very different from what people in love do with each other. Don't you?"

"Yes," he whispered, then he started to lift his head. "Yes, yes."

Walter kissed her, lips salty from his tears.

"It's not bad at all," he told her.

"No -- how can it be?" Laurie smiled at him. "I love you."

Walter nodded and looked at her with eyes that were teeming. Laurie wiped the tears from his eyes and kissed him again.

"It's okay," she told him. "Why don't we stay like this, Walter?"

"Yes," he said, as he put his face against her shoulder and settled into her arms.

Laurie stroked his hair until he fell asleep. Laurie stayed up for a long while afterward, looking up at the ceiling and thinking about Walter before she too, fell into a dreamless sleep.

-----

To be continued...


	46. Chapter 46

Ch. 46

Walter woke up, and if it weren't for the bright light, he would have thought he had never slept at all. He moved his head a little, realizing the light was from the bedside lamp. Maybe it was still night. He turned his head a little more to look at the window and realized there was also sunlight pouring through. Ah, morning, after all. Then why did he feel so drained?

Laurie was next to him and his arm was over her. She felt so soft underneath him, it took him a moment to realize her state of undress. With this view of her, the memories of the night before came back to him in a rush, making a lump form in his throat. He had broken down like a child, and he hadn't done anything to stop himself. Walter looked at Laurie's sleeping face. She had comforted him, he remembered, but what did she really think? He was sure that without raw emotions hanging in the air coupled with the morning sun glaringly reminding them of last night's incident, she wouldn't be so forgiving. He was sure she would think that he had acted quite foolishly; that's how he saw himself, anyway. Maybe she would start to judge -- people always did -- and she would decide that he was too messed up for her want to deal with, after all.

Walter rolled onto his back, contemplating leaving again, until he remembered the promise he had made to her never to do that. He sighed bitterly.

Laurie stirred next to him.

"Walter?" she asked, turning to see if she was there. "Oh, hi."

Laurie was smiling at him, but Walter couldn't return it. That cold dread was building up in him again, starting at that lump in his throat, only to trickle down to the pit of his stomach.

"Are you feeling okay?" Laurie asked him, as she reached out to run a smooth hand across his forehead.

Walter nodded.

"Good," said Laurie, smiling at him again and letting her hand rest on his chest. Walter glanced down at it and took it.

Walter waited for one long moment before he couldn't bear it any longer. He glanced at Laurie, trying to form the question in his mind.

"Are you ashamed of me?" he asked her, finally. It wasn't exactly how he had wanted to say it, but it was the best he could do.

"What? No," said Laurie, looking surprised. "Of course not. Why would I be?"

Walter studied her eyes. She was only looking at him with warm concern. Walter kissed her gratefully.

"Thank you," he told her.

Laurie gave him a curious look, but she didn't pry. She smiled at him instead.

"What do you want to do today?" she asked him.

"I have to go to work," he said.

"Oh," she looked disappointed. "I forgot."

Walter glanced at her.

"I always work every day except for Sunday," he said. "How did you forget?"

"I don't know," she laughed, "For some reason I always think crime fighting is your job -- I mean, mine too, but... You know, we're out for long hours in the night; working, basically."

"I have two jobs, then," he said, shrugging. He was looking around for his shirt before he remembered that it was probably crumpled on the floor somewhere in the other room. He sneaked a peek at Laurie and blushed as he remembered how she felt under his hands.

"Do you want to meet up here, or at Nelson's?" Laurie asked him.

"Here," he told her. He stood up reluctantly and walked into the other room. Laurie followed him after she put on a robe.

Walter picked up articles of his clothing and slowly put them on as Laurie watched him. He turned away, embarrassed as he had to undo his pants to tuck in his shirt. He put on his tie and jacket, then folded his coat under his arm.

"You have really nice arms, you know?" Laurie said, suddenly.

"Err, thank you," said Walter, looking down. "You have very nice... parts."

Laurie's eyes widened a little.

"I meant it as a general term," said Walter, throwing out his hands and dropping his coat. They both bent over to pick it up and fumbled over each other.

Laurie took one quick glance at Walter before she shoved him against the wall and kissed him furiously. Walter was afraid that she would rip his clothes from him, but she just ran her hands over his head and neck. After she was finished, she kissed him more gently on the lips before she straightened herself and tried to fix his hair. Walter glanced up at the clock and gave Laurie a brief kiss before he went towards the front entrance.

"Walter, your coat--" said Laurie, as he opened the door.

"Keep it here," Walter told her, "And those."

Walter gestured towards his mask, hat, and gloves then smiled at her before he went out. He barely had time to shower and change -- no time to eat, yet again. He went to work with a quick step. He came in to find the shop a mess, with Mr. Petersen standing among bits of papers, pins, and buttons around him on the floor, as well as overturned drawers and dummies tossed about.

"Mr. Petersen," exclaimed Walter, in alarm. "What happened?"

"Just couldn't find my measuring tape," said the old man, shaking his head as the offending object lay across his shoulders.

"They're here," Walter said, gently pulling the tape down to show him. "See?"

"Oh, such a good boy," said Mr. Petersen, sounding faint. "So good, and so clever, too."

"Maybe you should sit down," Walter suggested, as he steered Mr. Petersen away from the chaos and to the back of the shop.

"Thank you," said Mr. Petersen, as he allowed Walter to help him into his chair. "What would I do without you?"

Walter wondered what indeed, and he quickly worked to clear up as much of the debris as he could before the customers started coming in. Mr. Petersen let Walter handle all of them -- the old man wasn't napping today, but he seemed agitated -- and stayed in the back away from business. Walter didn't mind, though he worried about his employer a little. He wondered if Mr. Petersen even had any family. The thought of the frail old man going home alone made Walter sad.

Walter had a quick lunch during his break. Though he hadn't eaten that morning, he wasn't very hungry for lunch either, so he just had a danish. He looked around him at the cafe as he ate, eyes bright; feeling quite alert and good about himself. Walter looking inquiringly into himself for the reason and smiled. After eating, he was walking back to the shop when he passed by a display he couldn't resist looking at.

Walter peered down in concentration as he looked in the window of a jeweler's. He thought he saw a shadow pass by, but didn't pay attention. It wasn't until he saw someone standing next to him in the reflection of the window that he jumped in surprise.

"Hey," said Dan, laughing.

"You should be glad I didn't punch you," exclaimed Walter.

"What did I do now?" asked Dan, looking alarmed.

"You startled me."

"Oh," Dan laughed again. "Sorry. I guess you didn't hear me."

Dan glanced into the window and grinned at him.

"Thinking about the future, are we?" Dan asked.

Walter said nothing, but he didn't try to hide his smile. Dan adjusted his glasses.

"Are you going to the Crimebusters meeting tonight?" he asked Walter, rather emphatically.

Walter gave him a dirty look and glanced around him to make sure nobody had heard what he said.

"Why don't you go across the street and shout to me from there?" Walter said.

"Why?"

"Nevermind."

"Well, all right." Dan shrugged. "I guess I'll leave you be, then."

Dan started to turn away, and Walter wondered why he had extended a hand to be so friendly to him all of a sudden. He had an image of Dan as Mr. Petersen, alone in his old age and felt a little guilty.

"Wait," said Walter.

Dan turned and looked at him with interest.

"Are you good at this... sort of thing?" Walter asked him, as he gestured vaguely towards the jeweler's.

"What, appraising jewelry? Counterfeiting it? Standing in front of shops and talking loudly to people?"

Walter gave him a dry smile.

"Choosing something appropriate."

"Oh," Dan adjusted his glasses again and stooped down to look into the window. "I might be able to, but I guess you need to tell me what she likes."

"What she likes?"

"You know, like favorite colors, stones, shapes, that sort of thing."

Walter gave him a blank look and Dan shrugged.

"Well, if you asked me to pick one without any information, I would go for that one." Dan pointed.

"The third one from the back?" Walter asked him.

"No, the one right in front of it. Second row from the back."

"Hm."

Walter noted it and nodded at him.

"Thank you," he told Dan.

"You're welcome." Dan stood there waiting, as if for Walter go with him.

Walter shrugged and started to walk, and Dan accompanied him back to his shop.

"Is this where you work?" Dan asked, glancing inside. "It's nice."

"Thank you," said Walter.

They stood in awkward silence.

"Uh, bye, I guess," said Dan.

"Good bye, Daniel."

Walter went inside and half-expected the shop to be in a disarray again, but Mr. Petersen had thankfully fallen asleep. Walter tended to the shop and cleaned up at the end of the day. He woke up Mr. Petersen and flagged a taxi down for him and sent him on his way. Walter stopped by his apartment to change into his costume suit before he went to Blake's house. He was wondering why he was so hungry before he realized he hadn't eaten much that day. Oh, well -- he would ignore it and eat later that night. He knocked on the door and heard Laurie's voice from somewhere inside.

"It's open," she called to him.

Walter opened the door and walked inside, closing the door and locking it.

"You shouldn't just leave your door unlocked like that," Walter said to the open air.

"Oh, Walter, I just unlocked it knowing you would be home soon," called Laurie, whose voice came from the kitchen.

Walter went into the kitchen to find Laurie at the stove, cooking. She turned and smiled at him. Walter shivered.

"Here, sit down," Laurie said. "We have time to have a quick dinner before the meeting starts."

Walter obeyed and waited for Laurie to serve him. They ate together without a word, then Walter got up to find the rest of his costume essentials as Laurie cleared the table.

"Let me get changed," Laurie told Walter, as he put his mask on. Rorschach waited for what seemed like forever -- why did it take so long? She just had one thing to put on, then the armor, which was basically just straps going together.

Nightshade finally emerged from her room, smiling.

"Let's go," she said.

They held hands all the way to Nelson's, then let go as they stepped inside. Captain Metropolis was there, along with Nite Owl II.

"Hello there," said Nelly, looking pleased. "Good to see us all here."

"What about Ozymandias?" asked Laurie.

"Oh," Nelly frowned a little. "Didn't he tell you? He's given up crime fighting."

"What?" exclaimed Nite Owl II.

"He didn't give me the details, but that's what he told me," Nelly said, shrugging.

"Wow," said Nightshade, frowning at Rorschach. Rorschach nodded at her.

"So, what's this meeting about?" Nite Owl II asked.

"I wanted to know if you three have heard anything about the new Hooded Justice," said Nelly.

"Huh?" Nite Owl II looked at Rorschach and Nightshade, who were just as surprised as he was.

"Hooded Justice II? Ah, well," Nelly blushed a little. "Guess I'm the only one who keeps up with out-of-state news."

Nelson reached over and pulled out a newspaper article.

"He's based in California," said Nelly, "Started off taking care of crime by himself, until he got called in to join a group. They started off a crime fighting team of their own over there, did you know that?"

Rorschach wasn't really listening to what Nelly was saying. He grabbed the paper and stared. His eyes were fixed on the picture more than the actual article. It wasn't a photo -- just a composite drawing, based on eye-witness reports, it said. The man was wearing what looked like a hood over his head, with generic looking protective clothing underneath. He was wearing sunglasses over the hood, and really did look remarkably like Hooded Justice. Rorschach was very certain the man hadn't intended to look anything like Hooded Justice, however. On his chest the man wore a symbol of a circle with an oddly shaped cross under it. Inside the circle, looking vague and faded in the small drawing, was a smile.

Anyone could miss it at first glance, but Rorschach was instantly drawn to it. He felt cold anger start at the base of his spine, making him shiver as it went up his back to rest on the back of his head, giving him a peculiar headache.

"...With attire akin to New York City based Hooded Justice from decades before, our state's own Hooded Justice II helped us rid the area of twelve major criminals," read Nightshade, as she peered over Rorschach's shoulder. She went silent as she read the rest, then gasped. "Wait, what?"

Nightshade reached around Rorschach to take the paper away from him. He let her, intrigued and waiting to hear what she had to say.

"This article says that he _kills_ people," said Nightshade, looking shocked. "Murders them and leaves them around for the police to find. Am I reading this right?"

"That's how they deal with crime around there," Nelson nodded. "The crime fighters carry pistols and other sorts of weaponry, actually."

Rorschach, Nightshade, and Nite Owl II all looked at Nelson as if he had just announced he was going to pull out his eyes and eat them.

"And the police let them do this?" Nite Owl II asked in disbelief.

"Oh, yes," said Nelly, putting his hands behind his back. "The police forces there, especially the LAPD during the 1950s, were quite ruthless. They used to rule the streets, brutalizing citizens and dealing out their own punishment -- even street-wide executions. Made some of our more... violent... fellow crime fighters here look tame in comparison."

Nelson turned and started rifling through a collection of papers he had in a cabinet.

"Some people had enough and started fighting back. But when your enemies all have guns, what else can you do but arm yourself in the same manner?"

Rorschach did not understand this. They had gone against armed criminals before. He couldn't imagine the NYPD ever allowing something such as this. If granted to go on killing rampages and shooting sprees in this manner, at what point did vigilantes become felons themselves? Californians must be insane.

"Suffice to say, they're more lenient towards certain things over there," Nelly explained. "Anyway, I thought you might be interested in hearing one of our own has had a tribute."

Nelly looked wistful as he turned to look at a picture of the Minutemen -- the exact same one that the Comedian had at home -- that he had behind him.

"I'm sure HJ would have been flattered," he said, softly.

"Oh, hey," said Nite Owl II, "I almost forgot -- I have copies of the photo we took, you know, of us all at our first Crimebusters meeting?"

Everyone stared at Nite Owl II. That meeting was ages ago; they had all forgotten about the photo, it seemed.

"I have them in Archie, though," said Nite Owl II, frowning.

"Archie?" Nightshade asked.

"Oh," Nite Owl II laughed. "Short for Archimedes -- it's my owl ship."

"So you're saying you're never going to give us the pictures until you've forced us to board your vessel?" Rorschach asked.

Nite Owl II gave Rorschach a surprised look as he laughed.

"Wow, you make it sound like I love to torture you guys by imposing my garish presence onto you," he said, "Am I that bad?"

Rorschach didn't respond. Nightshade smiled and winked at Rorschach but said nothing either.

"I would like it if we could work together though," Nite Owl II said, in a quiet voice, as if he hadn't noticed the implication behind Rorschach's silence. "It's really not good working out there all alone."

He hung his head a little and looked quite sad.

"None of that now," said Rorschach, quickly. "We'll go with you."

"Could you try to find out more about Captain Carnage while you're out there?" Nelly asked.

Rorschach snarled to himself, but Nite Owl II nodded.

"I would like to know what he's all about, for sure," he said.

"Oh, we know what he's about," Rorschach said under his breath, but nobody seemed to hear him.

They discussed a few more things before they left Nelly's house -- Nite Owl II, Rorschach, and Nightshade, to be exact. Nite Owl II talked pleasantly as he took them to where he had Archie hidden.

As Nite Owl II climbed the ramp that led up into the ship, Rorschach leaned in towards Nightshade.

"Watch, he's really taking us up there to kill us," he told her.

"Rorschach," exclaimed Nightshade.

"Then he'll stuff our bodies and have us strapped to the seats like dummies."

"Oh my god."

"The man's crazy," Rorschach said. "If it's the only way he can get us to stay with him forever, he'll do it."

Nightshade laughed and punched his shoulder playfully as she went inside. Rorschach chortled to himself as he followed her.

"Guess you can keep them up here while we go out and fight, but here, you can look at them for now," said Nite Owl II, handing a photo to first Nightshade, then to Rorschach. He started up the engine and started fiddling with buttons.

Rorschach studied the picture. It made him feel bad to see the Comedian and Ozymandias who were no longer fighting with them.

"I'm framing mine," Nightshade told him.

"So am I," he told her.

"Fine," she said. "We'll have both pictures on the mantelpiece, then."

Rorschach stopped and stared at her, but she had already gone to the front to sit by Nite Owl II. And goodness, he had already started talking.

-----

To be continued...


	47. Chapter 47

Ch. 47

"So, where to next?" Nite Owl II asked, as they hovered over the city.

Laurie looked behind her at Rorschach, who appeared to be pacing again. Either he didn't hear the question, or he had Nite Owl II on ignore by default.

"Well, uh," Laurie said, as she frowned. Then she had an idea. "How about the docks?"

"All right," said Nite Owl II. Laurie waited for him to ask why and was surprised when he didn't. Of course, she was used to Rorschach who asked a million questions.

"Is the Comedian absent?" Rorschach asked. He was suddenly over her shoulder, and Laurie jumped.

"Yes," she said, a bit louder than was necessary.

"Hm," said Rorschach. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered so that Nite Owl II couldn't hear him. "Where is he?"

"In Vietnam," Laurie whispered to him. "Dan knows he's my dad, remember?"

"Oh, I know," Rorschach said. "I just don't want him to know."

Laurie and Rorschach turned and looked at Nite Owl II, but he seemed oblivious. They landed on a building near the docks, got out together and set off on foot. The docks were swarming with activity. The criminals seemed to know that the Comedian was gone, and like rats they had come out from the little niches they had been hiding in. They seemed quite surprised when the three crime fighters descended upon them. As annoying as Dan had been at times, Nite Owl II was a very effective fighting partner, and Laurie was glad he was with them. Nite Owl II seemed to be thinking the same thing, as he excitedly discussed the events of that night with Laurie afterwards as they returned to Archie. Laurie turned to look at Rorschach, but he seemed to be unusually quiet that day. He appeared to be brooding about something, and she was afraid that he was getting annoyed with Dan again.

Laurie stared at Rorschach, hoping to catch his eye, and when he finally looked up, she gestured to Nite Owl II and grimaced at him in apology. Rorschach shrugged and shook his head at her. After they were in the air again, Nite Owl II asked if they wanted to be dropped off at their usual place, but Rorschach suggested somewhere else. Laurie said nothing as Nite Owl II listened to Rorschach's directions and dropped them off in an unfamiliar area.

Laurie started to go down the ramp with Rorschach, confused.

"Hey, don't forget your pictures!" Nite Owl II called out to them.

Laurie turned and ran back to get the two photos from where she and Rorschach had left them and joined Rorschach outside. Rorschach took the pictures and put them in his coat. They stood in a nearby alleyway and watched as Nite Owl II flew off.

"So," Laurie said, as soon as the owl ship was out of sight, "Where are we?"

Rorschach said nothing. He just took her hand and led her in a direction and she followed him. Rorschach looked around him as he took them into an apartment building and up the stairs. Rorschach paused in front of a particular unit and Laurie peered around him. It wasn't until he took out a set of keys and started to open the door that Laurie realized he lived here.

Laurie stared, surprised -- she would have guessed what he was doing earlier if she had expected him to, but this had come as a complete shock to her. Rorschach went inside, turned on the light, looked around, took off his hat and mask and stood aside to let her go in front of him. Laurie smiled at him as she brushed past and noticed that he looked quite nervous.

Walter closed the door behind them and locked it. Laurie looked around the small apartment as Walter turned on more lights. The first thing Laurie noted was how clean the apartment was. This wasn't the practical sort of clean that Blake's house was; this was the sort of clean that made Laurie afraid to touch anything for fear of dirtying it or putting it out of its place. A three-foot long hallway made its short stretch from the door before it turned sharply to a small kitchen on the right. A living area was straight ahead, and to the left, another short hallway that Laurie assumed ran into Walter's bedroom.

Laurie turned and beamed at Walter. He avoided looking at her.

"You could sit down if you wish," he told her. He leaned close to her as he gestured to the small couch before them. Laurie sat down gingerly and looked up at Walter, who was still standing.

"You have a very clean apartment," she told him.

Walter gave her a tight-lipped smile. Laurie almost asked him if there was anything the matter, but she noticed a particular frame on the wall and stood up again. Laurie walked to the end of the room and smiled. Walter had framed the article about their involvement in Big Figure's capture.

"You framed it?" Laurie said. "That's very sweet."

Walter grunted and threw out his hands.

"What's wrong, Walter?" Laurie asked, frowning as she sat back down on the couch.

Laurie thought she might have to pry the answer out of Walter, but he seemed to have been waiting for her to ask the question.

"Agent Orange," he told her. "I'm sure you're absolutely sick of hearing about him; but he's driving me insane."

"How?" Laurie asked. "I don't remember hearing about him at all."

"Hooded Justice II," Walter said, sounding very aggravated. "He's out there committing crimes and they're rewarding him for it! This is why he started; to gain recognition, and we wouldn't give it to him here. But they're handing everything he wants over there in that crazy place."

"Oh," said Laurie. She was quite surprised by the news. "How did you know Hooded Justice II and Agent Orange were the same person?"

"The smile -- it was in the picture. Didn't you see it?"

Laurie shook her head, and Walter started to pace around the room again.

"He's been taunting me for a while," he told her, "Knew he was somewhere in California, but had no idea what he was up to. I mean, one can only guess what people like that do to pass the time normally, but I thought he was in hiding."

"Maybe he wants to be caught," Laurie said.

"Probably -- yes, I think so," Walter nodded. "By me, for some reason. He is insane."

"Walter, if he's insane, why are you letting him get to you?"

"Doesn't it bother you?" he asked her. "Doesn't it bother you that he is murdering people? He is murdering them in the name of justice but he knows nothing about it. He only knows the concept of justice but he doesn't feel what's right or wrong inside him. He has no conscience."

"That's true," said Laurie, "But there are many murderers like him out there."

"Nothing to this degree," he told her. "I am guessing he must have killed at least thirty people already."

Laurie put a hand to her mouth.

"But Walter," she said, after a moment. "You already caught him before and he got away."

"Correct."

"Then how do you know you can catch him again and that he will stay caught?"

"I have some ideas," he said. He gave her such a piercing look Laurie felt afraid to speak for a moment.

Walter made a frustrated sound and crossed the room and reached under a cabinet. He started pulling out papers and postcards. Laurie stood up and walked over to him. She kneeled down next to him and peered over his shoulder as he looked through the postcards and tossed many aside.

"Are those from Agent Orange?" Laurie asked.

"He's sent me practically everything except for a birthday present," Walter told her. "Look, he even sent me a Christmas card."

Laurie picked the card up and stared at it -- a generic card full of well wishes and season's greetings. Nothing written in it in hand but a smile. Laurie froze.

"Walter," she said, voice a near whisper. Walter looked up at her sharply.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"What does Agent Orange look like?"

Walter paused for a moment.

"Normal," he said. "Average build, probably five ten, blonde, green eyes."

_Mister S. Miles...Funny, gag gift?_

Laurie swallowed her fear and felt incredibly stupid.

"What is it?" Walter asked. "Did you see him?"

Laurie nodded.

"Where?" Walter grabbed her shoulder and shook her a little. Laurie cringed and hugged him. Suddenly she regretted ever mentioning this to Walter.

"He...He sent me flowers," she told him. "When I was in the hospital. They were delivered by this man... My dad was so upset about the flowers I forgot about the man."

Walter was saying something, but she couldn't hear him. Suddenly his arms around her had tightened.

"I saw him again after I got out of the hospital," she told him. "He was so non-chalant, asking me about the time, but he also asked me if I was okay, and I just passed him off as a very odd man."

"Odd is not the word for him, Laurie," Walter said. "Why did you not tell me he sent you those flowers?"

"I forgot," Laurie admitted. "I'm sorry -- I know that's very careless, but after everything that was going on, he was pretty much the furthest thing from my mind."

"I'm going to kill him," Walter said.

"No, Walter," Laurie said, horrified to find that she was laughing a little. "No, no."

"He knew what he was doing," Walter said to her. He pulled away and looked her in the eyes. "If that's how it's going to be, that's how it's going to be. I need to capture him."

"But he's in California," Laurie exclaimed. "How are you going to get him from over here?"

"I need to go California." Walter said. Then he put his hands to his eyes and sighed deeply. "What am I saying? That's just ridiculous. We can't afford to go there."

Laurie blinked a little at his inclusion of her to this trip.

"Well, wait a minute," she said, "I'm sure we can think of something."

"Even if we could, I don't think I can leave work behind for that long without being taken out of the job," Walter explained.

"And yet you're going to sit here and grow angrier each day the longer Agent Orange stays there," Laurie said.

Walter frowned and said nothing. Laurie put her hand on his arm.

"It's okay, Walter," she said. "We'll figure this out. I'll try to help you, don't worry. We'll catch him."

"Ah, well," sighed Walter. Then he fell silent.

"So," said Laurie after a moment as she stood up. She held up her hand for Walter to take it. He did, and she helped him up.

"Yes?" he asked her.

"Am I going to stay here tonight?" Laurie asked, as she leaned in close.

"Yes," he said, looking a little embarrassed.

"Okay, well, just asking, since... You know," Laurie gave him a knowing look. "I don't have anything to change into."

"You can wear my clothes," he told her, in a matter-of-fact tone.

Laurie laughed.

"Fine," she said. "Bundle me up in winter layers until I look like a mushroom."

"If you wish."

Laurie followed Walter into his room and looked about. She nodded. His bed was small, but that meant they could sleep that much closer together. Laurie smiled to herself, a little excited by the prospect.

-----

To be continued...


	48. Chapter 48

Ch. 48

Walter woke up to find Laurie missing from his side. He got out of bed concerned, and looked for her. He found her in the kitchen preparing food. How had she gotten out of his bed without him noticing? Walter scratched his head. He must have been fast asleep.

"Oh," said Laurie, turning and smiling as he entered. "Hi."

"Hello," said Walter, hovering around her to peer over her shoulder. She was frying eggs in a pan. He didn't remember keeping eggs in the refrigerator.

"I thought for once I would send you off to work with actual breakfast," Laurie explained, as she kissed him. "I've been such a bad hostess letting you run out the door in the morning at my place."

"I don't mind that so much," Walter told her, though what she was doing now was filling him with an elation beyond belief.

"Mm," said Laurie. "Here, why don't you sit down?"

Walter complied and sat at the table with his hands clasped in front of him. He stared at Laurie as she continued to cook. She was wearing one of his shirts. She had insisted on going without pants, though they argued about it for a good fifteen minutes. His shirt was not long enough to cover any decent amount of her legs. It made him blush to look at, but he felt compelled to watch her regardless. Laurie put the food she made onto two plates and turned and smiled at him as she served them.

"See, when we stay here instead of at my place, you don't have to make the trip back here to change _and_ we can spend more time together in the morning," Laurie told him, cheerfully.

"Are you saying that it's better to stay here than at Blake's residence?" he asked her, in disbelief. Why on earth would she want to spend time in this little hole?

"Yes," she nodded. "I like it here."

Walter gave her a baffled look and started to eat without comment.

"Thank you," he told Laurie, after he was done. She stood up and kissed him as she cleared the plates, and he felt dizzy for a moment.

"You know, I had an idea," Laurie said, as she started washing dishes at the sink. "For Agent Orange."

"You did?" Walter stood up and walked to her side. He watched her for a moment before he started to help her clean up.

"You know how Nelly was talking about those crime fighters in California? The ones that formed a group of their own?"

"Of course."

"Well, why don't I convince Nelly that it's a good idea to go visit them? You know, compare notes and tactics, all the sorts of things Nelly likes."

Walter paused.

"I don't know," he told her, honestly. "You know him better than I do."

"I suppose so," Laurie shrugged. "It doesn't hurt to ask. Knowing Nelly, he might be excited enough to take us all there, even Dan."

Walter paused again.

"Can you imagine," he said, "Being stuck in a car with him on a trip from here to California?"

"It can't be that bad," Laurie said, laughing. "He'd be talking a lot, but it's not like he's going to make us sing or something."

Walter folded his arms and said nothing. This made Laurie laugh harder.

"Does that sound good to you, Walter?" Laurie asked.

"No, I just told you, being in a car with Dan for all that long would be torture."

Laurie laughed.

"Not that," She said, batting lightly at his arm. "Asking Nelly. I mean, I won't do it if it would bother you."

"No, that's perfectly fine; thank you," Walter said, feeling quite endeared towards her.

After the kitchen had been cleaned, Walter and Laurie spent a good deal of time in each other's arms kissing. Walter looked up after a while and realized he should be going out the door right about now or be late.

"Sorry, work," he told her, then he quickly ran into his room. When he came out, she was back in her costume, sans mask and armor.

"Could I leave the armor here?" she asked him. "I can put the mask in my pocket without any problems, but the armor might look a bit strange to carry around down the street."

Walter nodded and ushered her out the door and locked it behind them. Laurie grabbed him suddenly and kissed him.

"So I won't embarrass you by kissing you outside," she explained, afterwards.

"What are you talking about?" Walter asked, as they went down the stairs. "You can certainly kiss me outside."

"Really?" Laurie looked surprised.

"Yes -- but only when there isn't anybody present."

Walter blew her a kiss and left. He heard Laurie laughing behind him and felt quite pleased with himself. He arrived at work to find the shop still closed. Frowning, he used the key Mr. Petersen had given him for when he closed down the shop. He looked inside, but nobody was there. Feeling worried, Walter opened up the shop as Mr. Petersen would, and kept a look out for the old man as he dealt with the customers.

Mr. Petersen finally showed up when it was almost lunch hour.

"I'm sorry about that," he said, looking confused. "I'm afraid I lost track of the time."

Walter nodded and said nothing, though his worry had only grown. He wondered if there was anybody to help Mr. Petersen out but felt it was rude to pry too much. He watched his employer as he puttered around the shop, and for once he seemed better again. Walter shrugged to himself and tried to push out the doubt from his mind. He looked up half an hour later, surprised to find Dan standing in the shop entrance.

"Hey," said Dan, waving at him. "Is it close to lunch for you?"

"Yes," said Walter, glancing at the clock, then at Dan. "Almost on the dot, actually."

"Oh," Dan stood there awkwardly for a moment. "Thought maybe I'd accompany you."

"All right."

They walked in silence for a moment, when Walter realized that Dan was leading them somewhere.

"Where are we eating?" he asked him.

"Oh, this diner I like to go to," Dan said. "You'll like it, don't worry."

Walter nodded a little and continued to walk.

"Did you happen to be in the area?" Walter asked, after another moment.

"No actually," Dan laughed. "I just thought I should get out of the house. I knew Hollis was out of town, so I thought I'd visit you instead."

Walter nodded again. It was sad to think that he was Dan's replacement Hollis -- considering how close Dan and Hollis seemed to be, and how little Walter and Dan knew about each other.

They went to the diner and ordered their lunch. Dan was correct in his assumption that Walter would enjoy the meal there. They emerged from the diner in good spirits. Walter spotted a woman looking at them from a block ahead, and it wasn't until she was nearly upon them that he realized who it was.

"Well," said Sally Jupiter. "Walter -- long time no see."

"Good afternoon," Walter said, politely.

"And Dan," she nodded.

"Hi Sally," Dan was smiling.

"Good to see you two getting along," she told them.

Dan shrugged and smiled at Walter, who would rather not remember the incident Sally was referring to and made no comment.

"I've been trying to get in touch with Laurie," Sally told Walter. "Could you tell my daughter to give me a call?"

"Yes ma'am."

"That's very good," Sally nodded again. "You and Laurie should meet with me so we can spend some time together."

"A reasonable proposal," said Walter, "Though I must make one request and that is to not make it a dinner."

"Oh?" Sally looked a little surprised. "Why is that?"

"Frankly, ma'am, your dinners so far have ended up being quite horrendous, if you don't find offense in my saying."

Sally laughed.

"You are so polite, you know that?" she told him. "Are you like this with Laurie, too?"

Walter said nothing, and that made Sally laugh harder.

"Oh, you are adorable," she told him, and pinched his cheek before Walter could react. He stared at her, horrified. He looked at Dan and found him gawking with an annoying smile on his face.

"Thank you," Walter said, testily.

"So, Dan," said Sally, "You spend more time with him than me. Tell me -- is he really a hobo like he says he is?"

"Not at all," said Dan. "He works at quite a nice place, actually."

Walter's eyes nearly fell out of his head as he silently tried to get Dan to be quiet. Dan luckily caught on and divulged no more information after that.

"Hmm." Sally eyed both Dan and Walter in turn. Then she smiled again. "Well, I better let you carry on then. I'll see you boys later."

"Bye Sally," said Dan, as Walter nodded at her.

"What's up with you and Sally?" Dan asked, as soon as she was out of earshot.

"What do you mean?" Walter asked him.

"She acts so strange when she talks to you," Dan told him.

"A remarkable observation," said Walter, a little surprised.

"No, seriously, she is being strange."

"I wasn't being sarcastic -- if my tone implied it, I apologize."

"Ah. Well, I dunno."

"How is she strange?" Walter asked.

"I don't know -- sort of like she's looking for something. It's hard to explain. I just know she doesn't act like that when it's just me and Hollis or something, you know?"

Walter nodded. He was going to have to be on guard if Sally's get together was going to take place sometime soon.

Dan walked with Walter back to the shop. Walter was surprised to find Laurie in front of it. She brightened and waved when she saw him.

"Hi Walter," she said. She started to lean in, saw Dan, and just hovered near Walter a little.

"Laurie," Walter said. He was quite surprised and pleased to see her.

"Dan."

"Laurie."

"Have you been here long?" Walter asked her.

"No -- maybe five minutes," she told him. "Your boss told me that you were out to lunch. I felt kind of nervous about being in there though, so I decided to wait outside."

"Nervous?" Walter frowned.

"I don't know, he was muttering to himself and it didn't make sense," Laurie shrugged. "Anyway, I just wanted to... to tell you about what Nelly said."

Laurie was eyeing Dan, who appeared as though he was trying not to listen to their conversation but doing a poor job of it.

"Oops, I'm sorry," said Dan. "Should I not be listening?"

"No, it's fine," Walter shrugged. "What did he say?"

"We're going to California," Laurie said, laughing.

"What?" Dan asked. "You and Walter?"

"Me and Walter, you, Nelly -- anybody who's a crime fighter who wants to go." Laurie looked excited.

"Wow," said Dan, adjusting his glasses. "What's happening?"

"Nelly contacted the crime fighting group in Los Angeles," she told him. "He suggested that we meet up for some kind of nation-wide masked hero conference."

"And they said yes?" Dan exclaimed. Now he looked excited as well.

"Yes -- they are even willing to give us accommodations once we get there," she said. "And Nelly is driving us."

"When are we going?" Walter asked. Suddenly he was a little nervous, especially standing outside the shop he worked at. He didn't like the idea of leaving Mr. Petersen alone for too long.

"It's not until two weeks from now," Laurie said. "Knowing Nelly though, he probably wants to go in the next few days, as soon as he's prepared everything."

"I will have a talk with my employer," Walter told her. "Thank you, Laurie."

Laurie's eyes were bright and dancing as she smiled at him.

"You're welcome, Walter."

"Hey Laurie, you going back home?" Dan asked. "Let me walk you."

"All right," Laurie nodded. "I'll see you later, Walter."

Walter nodded in return and tried not to be too jealous. He watched them leave and felt a little sad to see them go.

-----

To be continued...


	49. Chapter 49

Ch. 49

"So, who's going to take care of crime here while we go to California?" Dan asked Laurie as he walked her home.

"Oh." said Laurie, stopping in her tracks. She hadn't thought of it, and considering Nelly and Walter hadn't mentioned it either, she could safely assume that they hadn't either.

"Well," Laurie scratched her head and started walking again. "We won't be gone too long, I hope."

"If we took turns driving, we could probably get to California in two days," Dan said. "So even if we stayed for a few days there we would be back in a week at the latest, I hope."

"True, but I'm sure Nelly would like to stay there for a bit longer than that," Laurie said.

"Oh, well," Dan shrugged. "I suppose I should have more faith in our police department."

Laurie shrugged back at him. As they reached the house, she could hear the phone ringing from inside.

"Phone," exclaimed Laurie. "Bye Dan."

Laurie could hear Dan calling after her, but she was too busy fumbling to get inside. The phone was ringing incessantly, and when it stopped, it started again a few seconds later. Laurie finally tore the phone from its hook and placed it on her ear.

"Hello?" Laurie asked, out of breath.

"Laurie," said her mother's voice. "Where have you been?"

"Mom, I was outside."

"All night? I've been trying to reach you, sweetie."

"I was at Walter's." Laurie cringed a little.

"Hm."

Silence.

"What is it, Mother?" Laurie asked.

"Laurie," sighed Sally. "I've been trying to talk to you for some time now; we finally have a chance for a decent conversation and you act as if I'm intruding on your life."

"Well, I--..." Laurie sighed as well. "I'm sorry."

"That's better," Sally said, sounding placated for now. "I'm sure Walter has told you of this already, but since I've finally gotten in touch with you, why don't we get together for dinner tonight?"

"Isn't that a bit last minute, Mom?"

"Oh, nonsense. I'm sure even your father can find time for a little dinner."

"Oh."

Laurie grimaced.

"What's wrong, Laurie? Is there trouble? Is that why you had to stay at Walter's?"

"Well, no..." Laurie paused. "I thought he told you."

"Told me what?"

"He's gone to Vietnam."

Sally was silent for some time.

"What?" she finally asked.

Laurie shrugged, though afterwards realized that her mother would not be able to see it, of course.

"He went to war," Laurie tried again.

"He didn't tell me."

"I figured so, Mother."

"How could he do this?" Sally asked. "How could he leave you there by yourself, Laurie?"

"Mother, I'm old enough to take care of myself."

"No -- you know how hard it is for a woman to live on her own? He didn't even consider how you would be affected by something like this, did he?"

"I'm sure he did."

"No, I know Eddie, and I know how he is. He's selfish like that. Has an idea in his head, goes with it whether anybody else likes it or not."

"Mother--"

"Don't 'Mother' me, Laurie," Sally sounded quite upset. "You would think he'd at least have the courtesy to tell _me_, but no, just like always, Edward Blake. Just like always."

Laurie felt an angry flush come up around her neck and cheeks.

"Well, maybe if you had tried to get along with him better, he would have told you," Laurie told her mother.

"Laurie--"

"Instead you have to play hard to get. You're always running around flirting with everybody and people don't know what to think of you. It's so embarrassing."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about," shouted Laurie. "If you'd told him you were keen on something, anything, I bet he would have stayed. It's not like he wanted to go to that awful place. He probably thought he had no other options."

"He had an option, Laurie -- for a man who says he loves his daughter--"

"Mother, he knows that I have my own life. He thinks he's intruding on it, though I do try to tell him he isn't. If he knew he had someone to come home to, he would have stayed."

"That's unrealistic--"

"No," Laurie felt the anger flash in her eyes this time, blinding her for a moment. "You know what's unrealistic? The expectations you put on people. You're so cold, Mother. You want everyone to behave as mercenary as you do."

"Laurie," Sally sounded hurt.

"Why are you so ambivalent?" Laurie asked. She felt sad now. She hadn't meant to say those things to her mother, but now it was too late to take them back.

Sally was silent on the other end.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Laurie sighed deeply. "I'm just blaming you for things that could have been. I guess I am being unrealistic."

"No, dear," her mother sounded very far away. "It's all right."

"So, uh," Laurie bit her lip. "What was this about dinner?"

"Oh -- well, why don't we go out to eat?" Sally said, sniffing. Was she crying? "At six? I can come pick you up."

"No, uh, we'll just stop by your place," Laurie said as she twirled the phone cord nervously around her finger. "I'll see you."

"Fair enough."

Sally hung up before Laurie could say anything else. Laurie sighed and threw up her hands. She looked around the house, half-expecting her mother to show up to start another fight. Laurie paused for a moment. She hadn't checked the mail in a while. She stood up and went out to the mail box and pulled out stacks of envelopes. She flipped through them. Was she supposed to pay these bills?

Laurie was surprised and pleased to find a letter from her father. She had been half hoping for some sort of correspondence, but wasn't betting on it. She set the other letters down and opened the one in her hand.

"_Dear Laurie,_

_How are you? I miss you. Really wish you were here._

_What am I talking about? Wish I was there, for crying out loud -- you were right, kid. Don't know why I thought it was a great idea to come here. Well, didn't, really. Just came anyway. It's a lot different from back when I was in war a hundred years ago (yes, your father is THAT old!), you think it's pointless when you hear about it on the news broadcasts. Well, they ain't talking half of what you see in this shit hole. Aw, should censor myself but who cares. I can't think of any other way to describe the place._

_I wanted to tell you: don't worry about Walter. I should have said it before I left but I didn't think of it until after I was halfway here. He's a good kid, and you need to lead him, otherwise he won't know what to do. If you haven't already, I suggest you talk to him. He cares about you a lot, you know. I'm sure he's hurting worse than you are._

_Is that weird that I'm telling you this? I'm rambling but I'm not drunk or anything, I swear. I'm behaving myself over here. I have the creepy blue guy to take care of things -- don't know why they bothered sending for me with him around. He's been playing god around the place, disintegrating people like you wouldn't believe. I'm sure he'll make short work of this war. At least, I hope so. That means I can come home faster._

_Say hello to Walter for me -- and your mother. Write to me if you have the time, but if you don't want to that's okay too. Don't feel obligated. I ain't dead yet though!_

_Love you,_

_-Dad_"

Laurie smiled to herself and reread the letter. Then she placed it near her heart as she searched for an envelope and some paper and began writing her own:

"_Dear Dad,_

_I'm so glad to hear from you -- I'm sorry if this is getting there late. I forgot to check the mail for a while, so I don't know how long your letter's been sitting in the mailbox. It's not because I was procrastinating on it or anything. By the way, do I have to pay any bills? We received a ton, and I have no idea what goes where or what for._

_Dad, it's glad to hear that you're safe over there... Well, relatively safe, anyway. But why can't you just leave and come back, then? You should do that thing you do and tell them to stuff it. If they don't need you, then why should you be there? I wish you were over here too. It's really sad without you here. I'm back with Walter though, so you don't have to worry about me too much._

_I talked to Mom today. I told her where you were. I'm kind of upset at her right now -- you know how she is. I'm supposed to go to dinner with her and Walter tonight and I don't want to go._

_Oh, I almost forgot -- we're going to California! Nelly is taking us. Not for a vacation or anything, but he got in touch with the CF group there and they invited us to visit them. Walter is going because he wants to solve a case. He's quite obsessed with it. Dan's going with us too, by the way. I hope the two of them get along, though they have been lately so I'm not too worried. If you write to me while I'm gone though, that might be why I take a while to respond. I am going to guess we are going to stay there for two weeks at the most. I hope we don't stay too long. Dan pointed out that it wouldn't be wise for all of us to run off and leave the city to fend for itself... if you know what I mean..._

_I better go, Dad. You take care. And I will tell Walter and Mom that you wrote. I love you and miss you! Did I say that already? I don't think I did. Well, I miss you a lot, I wish you were here too. I'll see you._

_-Laurie_"

Laurie read over her letter. She hadn't wanted to talk too much about crime fighting, just in case the mail was screened by the military. She was sure most people there knew who the Comedian was, but she didn't want to take any chances. She placed the letter in the envelope, affixed a stamp to it, then went out to mail it. She spent the rest of the afternoon packing her essentials. Nelly hadn't told her yet when they were leaving, but she wanted to get it out of the way. Towards the evening, she looked up and was startled to find Walter standing in the doorway to her room.

"You left the door unlocked again," he told her in a disapproving tone.

"Oops," Laurie shrugged.

"Are you packing already?" Walter walked over and started to rifle through her suitcase.

"Yes," she said, laughing and slapping his hands away. "Why don't you go home and pack?"

"It's good to see you too," he said, sounding a lot more hurt than she would have expected.

"No," Laurie exclaimed, grabbing his waist and pulling him to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"Mm-hm."

"I didn't!" Laurie said, kissing him. "I'm sorry, Walter. I'm in a bad mood because of my mother. It's good to see you."

"What did she do?" Walter asked her as he put his arms around her.

Laurie shook her head and sighed.

"I don't know -- she was being weird about Dad going to war."

"What, did she say that it was a good riddance?"

"No," Laurie laughed at the thought. "I don't know, Walter. I guess... If you said you were going out to war, I would do everything I could to stop it. I'd drive us to Canada if that would help. And if you ended up going anyway, I would be heart broken."

"I'm not going to war," he said, dryly.

"Well, yes," Laurie sighed. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I thought she would care more about the fact that he could die out there. That he's in a mess and she's standing by just watching."

"They don't really have an obligation to one another," Walter said. "They're not really together anymore, are they?"

"I suppose so," frowned Laurie. "But how can you love someone so much at some point, but then not care if they live or die?"

"Sometimes, love fades," said Walter. "And sometimes things just don't work out when you look at them realistically. Beneath the surface, even."

"Yeah," Laurie sighed. "I don't know... Seeing it from my dad's perspective I guess I'm a little biased."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he obviously still cares about her -- I think he loves her, even."

Laurie frowned and hugged Walter.

"I was just hoping she would feel the same way," she said.

"Your mother is an ambivalent person, it seems," Walter said, thoughtfully.

"That's exactly what I told her," Laurie laughed. "That's the word for it -- ambivalent. Yet, I know my mother's not that bad. She feels just like the rest of us."

"Just not as much."

"Walter," Laurie protested, but she was still laughing.

Walter shrugged and kissed her tenderly.

-----

To be continued...


	50. Chapter 50

Ch. 50

"Do we have to go to this dinner?" Walter asked Laurie as they walked in a brisk pace towards Sally's house.

"I suppose we don't _have_ to," Laurie admitted. "But we should."

Walter sighed.

"And of course, it has to be a dinner," Walter told her. "I ask her not to have a dinner and she makes it a dinner anyway."

"That sounds like her," Laurie laughed. "It's funny since she complains that Dad does things like that, but she's worse. Dad does what he wants. But Mom? I think she waits for you to tell her what you don't like just so she can go ahead and do it."

"I certainly do not like how things are going, so she is doing her job quite well," Walter said, folding his arms.

"Oh, Walter," Laurie sighed. "I'm just glad she's being accepting and non-judgmental for once."

"Would you like to bet on that?" Walter muttered.

Laurie gave Walter a pained look, so Walter stopped complaining. What else could he do?

They reached Sally's home and she came out, gushing pleasantries and such before ushering them to her car. The three of them drove down to Sally's favorite restaurant. Walter thought his ears would fall off as Sally talked pretty much constantly. On top of that, Laurie was a runner-up for blabbermouth award of the year.

"I was telling James," said Sally, "That's the new neighbor across the street. He's a dentist from California, very cute. I'm sure you'd love him, Laurie."

Walter glared at Sally, who only glanced at him briefly before continuing.

"I was telling James that maybe it would be a good idea to retire to California one day," she said. "Not now, of course, but when I'm older."

"Walter and I are going to California," Laurie told her. "Well, not to retire. But with Nelly and Dan. We're having a crime fighter's conference there."

"Oh," Sally sniffed. "Well."

The table went silent, and Walter cleared his throat a little to ease the tension. Laurie grabbed his hand under the table.

"Yeah," said Laurie, looking at Walter and frowning a little. Walter shrugged, but he stroked the back of Laurie's hand in a reassuring manner. "Luckily Nelly is taking us, and all expenses are paid, courtesy of our Californian counterparts."

"Ah," said Sally, "How much do you make, Walter?"

"Mom," exclaimed Laurie.

"If he's not going to tell me what he does, he could at least tell me if he can provide for my daughter."

"That doesn't matter, Mom. And what does this have to do with anything?"

"Speaking of expenses reminded me, Laurie. And what were we saying about being realistic?" Sally pointed at Walter. "Can you provide for my daughter? Or will she have to work too?"

"I don't mind working," Laurie told Walter.

"What will you do if I can't?" Walter asked Sally. "Give her the money that your ex-husband made for you and hold it against her?"

Sally looked offended.

"No," she said. "Of course not."

"I'm sure things will work out just fine," Walter told her stiffly.

"How long have you two been together?" Sally asked. "Do you have any serious intentions for my daughter, or are you just stringing her along while you get your crime fighting out of the way?"

"Mother," Laurie snapped.

"It's a perfectly decent question, Laurie," Sally said. "Considering you two are practically living together now. Can you afford a ring?"

"You're being insulting," Laurie said.

"I don't want you to have a hard life, Laurie."

"No, just a hard time, apparently." Laurie folded her arms.

More silence. Sally looked at Walter expectantly, but he didn't feel she deserved any sort of response. Dinner ended with their only dessert being the bitter taste that he was sure was in everyone's mouths. The bill arrived and Sally waved it at Walter.

"There you go," she told him.

Walter paid it almost without hesitation, but he hated Laurie's mother nonetheless. Sally seemed satisfied now, and resumed her normal conversation with Laurie, who seemed less than enthusiastic about talking to her mother now. Sally drove them back to her house and invited them inside, but Laurie declined and left with Walter. They walked in silence, though still hand in hand. Walter was playing the conversation with Sally over again in his mind. He didn't like to admit it, but Sally was right. He was practically living with her daughter, and they hadn't said anything about getting married. What a hypocrite he had been, allowing them to continue on like this. At the same time, he really didn't care anymore -- they weren't doing anything wrong.

"I'm really sorry about that," Laurie said, taking Walter out of his thoughts. "I know she can be tough but I didn't think she would be this rude."

Walter shrugged.

"Not your fault," he told her.

"I still feel bad anyway."

"It's all right."

Laurie frowned and nodded. She was looking at her feet as they walked. Walter studied her for a moment.

"Would you prefer a nicer sort of ring?" Walter asked Laurie.

"What do you mean?" Laurie asked, looking surprised.

"If you had a choice," he told her. "Would you rather have something more expensive?"

Laurie laughed.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," she told him. "All that is just for show, anyway."

"You're not just saying that?"

"No," Laurie peered at him. "I...I'm sure I'll be perfectly happy with whatever you come up with, Walter."

Walter nodded, pleased with her response.

"I do intend to marry you," he informed her. "Just not asking right this moment."

"I know," Laurie smiled a little. "I'm sure you know what my answer would be."

"'No, try again'?"

"Walter," Laurie laughed. "Am I usually that awful to you?"

"Never."

Laurie took Walter's hand and smiled at him affectionately. Walter returned the gesture. They went to Walter's apartment, where it was his turn to sort through his essentials while Laurie watched him. Walter hummed a little to himself as he folded his clothes and placed them in a pack. He was focusing on the task at hand, but he was also thinking about Sally Jupiter again. The more he thought of her, the angrier he became.

"I just don't understand why she has to hate me so much," Walter said, finally.

"Who?"

"Your mother."

"I don't think she hates you," Laurie said, biting her lip.

"She does," Walter said, bitterly. "She hates me because I don't tell her anything. She hates me because I don't patronize her, like Dan does. She hates me because she wants a better man for her daughter."

"Walter," Laurie sighed. "Even if she hated every single thing about you, that doesn't really matter. She doesn't have a say in anything that goes on between us."

Walter glared and muttered to himself. Laurie smiled at him and came closer to put her arms around him. She kissed him and he resisted a little, wanting to stew in his anger, but after a moment he just couldn't take his hands off of her. They retired to bed early. Walter lay in Laurie's arms and wished he could make love to her. But there was still a part of him that resisted -- it wasn't the right time or place. Would it ever be?

Walter worried over the details of their relationship. Sally was all but forgotten, but Walter moved on to other points. Maybe after all this Agent Orange business was done and over with, he could take the next step with Laurie. They could focus on getting together at last. Yes, he would just think about it later. But what if that was all he ever did? He didn't want to push this away in favor of Agent Orange's case. But he couldn't think of anything else while he was out there. Was that bad?

Walter did not sleep much that night. He woke up the next morning and went to work. Sunday was coming up the next day and they might be on their way to California by Monday, even, so he told Mr. Petersen about the trip that day. His employer was quite understanding.

"Yes, by all means, go ahead," Mr. Petersen said, nodding his snowy-white head. "Are you getting married?"

"No," Walter said, blushing, "It's not a honeymoon by all means, just a... a conference."

"Ah." Mr. Petersen nodded, but did not inquire into the nature of the conference.

"Are you sure it's all right, Mr. Petersen?" Walter asked, cautiously. "I would be gone for two weeks at the most, and--"

"Oh, I think anything you do would be all right, my boy," Mr. Petersen said, suddenly taking Walter's hand. "You have been nothing but industrious, kind, and absolutely polite. Such a good boy; you deserve so much more than all this."

"Thank you," Walter said. "You are so generous to me, Mr. Petersen."

Mr. Petersen smiled.

"Well then," he said, "Why don't you help me write all this down? So I don't forget."

Walter nodded, feeling a lump grow in his throat and not knowing why. That night after he closed shop, Walter shook his employer's hand. He really hoped Mr. Petersen would be all right without Walter there. It pained him to leave him behind, even for a couple of weeks, but in the end, the more urgent of his two duties won. That night he, Nightshade, and Nite Owl II went patrolling. They worked extra hard to cover as much area as they could. Afterwards, the three of them stood together on a rooftop with Archie behind them, watching the rising sun.

"It almost feels like we're retiring, or something," Nite Owl II said. "Isn't that strange?"

"I was thinking the same thing," said Nightshade. "As if all this wouldn't be here when we returned."

"Or California is going to change us so explicitly we won't fit in here anymore," said Nite Owl II.

Nite Owl II and Nightshade laughed at that. Rorschach said nothing.

How was it that it had come to this?

In his mind he thought he was doing the right thing -- going to a far away state to catch the criminal that was so keen on being caught by him and only him. Whenever someone spoke of it aloud, however, Rorschach always felt uneasy. He was going out of his element. This city, he knew like the back of his hand. It was all he knew, and going to California was insane. How willing was he to get to his goals no matter what the cost?

"I better go," said Nite Owl II. "Before the sun comes up too much and people start coming out."

"Bye, Dan," said Nightshade.

"Bye, Laurie; Walter." Nite Owl II nodded to them and climbed aboard his owl ship and flew away.

Rorschach and Nightshade returned to Blake's house as it was closer to where they were than Walter's apartment.

"What's the matter, Walter?" Nightshade asked, finally. They were only a couple of blocks away from home and the prospect of going inside made Rorschach unbelievably tired.

Rorschach paused briefly, unsure of how to answer her. Would saying that it was everything that was the matter overly dramatic? He supposed it was, but that was how it felt. He shouldn't have to do this. He shouldn't have to leave behind his virtually helpless employer and he shouldn't have to leave the streets empty without his help or any of the other crime fighters'. He shouldn't have to drive three thousand miles to catch a murderer.

Yet, that was how it was going to be, wasn't it? Rorschach just hoped this would be quick and painless.

"I'm fine."

Rorschach ignored the exasperated look Nightshade gave him and took her hand instead.

-----

To be continued...


	51. Chapter 51

Ch. 51

Nelly had decided to leave for California on Monday, and Laurie wasn't surprised. Sunday went by relatively quickly, and soon Laurie was sitting in the back seat of Nelly's car with Walter. Nelly was driving, and Dan was on the passenger's side. Barely an hour had gone by since they left early that morning, and Laurie was already excited. She couldn't wait to get to California, but the prospect of going through numerous states to get there was a pretty thrilling idea on its own.

Smiling to herself, Laurie turned to look at Walter. He was gazing out the window into the distance. He seemed morose, somehow. Laurie wondered why -- they were going to California where Agent Orange was, and Walter had been so set on catching the man. Laurie was so sure that he would have been pleased by the prospect of going there. She frowned but said nothing. They drove for a few hours before they stopped at a cafe for lunch. Afterwards, Laurie got out to stretch her legs, then went to the small general store next door. She picked some items to buy, then came out to join Walter in the back seat again. Nelly switched places with Dan so that Dan could drive for a while.

Laurie tried to catch Walter's eye, but he seemed miles away. She rifled through the paper bag full of things she bought from the store and pulled out a notepad and a pen. She wrote in it:

"_Walter, what's the matter?_"

Laurie put the notepad on the seat with the pen and slid it towards Walter until it touched his hand. He looked down, then at her, then took the notepad and read it. He smiled. He looked at her again, then wrote something down and passed it to her. Laurie took it and read it:

"_Thinking about Agent Orange. About how unfortunate it would be if I missed the opportunity to capture him after all of this._"

Laurie gave Walter a sympathetic look, then wrote her response below his words and gave him back the notepad.

"_Don't worry about it, Walter. I'm sure you'll catch him eventually. If not, someone else will. Just think about it as a vacation with the possibility of catching a criminal on top of it._"

Laurie passed the notepad back to Walter. He took it and seemed to laugh silently in a bitter manner. He was just starting to write back when Dan spoke up.

"So guys, since we're all stuck in here together, why don't I tell you all about my exciting adventures of bird watching?" he suggested.

Laurie stared at Dan, eyes wide. Then Dan laughed.

"Just kidding," he said. "I got you, didn't I?"

Laurie laughed weakly. She felt something on her thigh and looked down to find the notepad by her side. She gave Walter a smile before she picked it up and looked at it.

At first, Laurie thought it was a drawing of Dan in his Nite Owl costume. Then she realized it was Dan _as_ an owl. Dan the owl's beak was open and a speech bubble came out of it. In the speech bubble it said, 'Blah blah blah' and so on. The words ran out of the speech bubble and into the open space, covering everything above it, even the words that Walter and Laurie had written previously. Laurie giggled. She drew Ozymandias dressed as the Twilight Lady next to Dan-Owl and gave it to Walter.

Walter smiled and gave Laurie a sly look before he added something and passed the notepad back. Laurie looked at it -- there was a new speech bubble for Dan, and it said, 'I went for pie and got sausages instead.' Laurie stared for a moment, then gasped.

"Walter," she whispered to him in astonishment.

Walter stared straight ahead and said nothing, though he seemed to be shaking with mirth and his cheeks were pink. Laurie giggled. She added a speech bubble next to Ozymandias and in it wrote, 'Just think of it as your punishment, Dan.'

She passed it back to Walter, who took it and smiled. He started to write in it and Laurie peered at the notepad eagerly. Walter glanced at her and turned away a little to block her view. Laurie folded her arms but smiled and waited patiently. He returned the notepad after a moment. In it was written, 'No peeking', and to Laurie's surprise, a small heart. Laurie smiled and blushed. She took her pen and wrote:

"_I love you Walter._"

Three hearts. She passed it back to Walter, who looked at the note, then at her. His eyes were warm. He wrote into the notepad and gave it to her. It read:

_"I love you, Laurie. Do you want to know how much?_"

Laurie read the note, then looked at Walter and gave him back the notepad expectantly without writing in it. Walter gave her a tight-lipped smile and took the pad. He proceeded to write something that was long and apparently several pages. Laurie sat and waited impatiently, getting increasingly nervous as Walter took forever to write, it seemed. Finally, Walter handed her the notepad back. She quickly grabbed it from him to read what he had to say and realized he hadn't written anything in it at all. When Laurie looked up, Walter was laughing silently. Laurie threw the notepad at him, but she found herself laughing, regardless. Dan looked back at them to see what they were doing and they both froze and pretended that nothing had happened. When Dan looked away, they started laughing silently between themselves again.

"Hey," said Dan, "Did you guys go out patrolling last night?"

"Just a little," Laurie admitted. They had ended up spending most of the evening kissing in bed, but she wasn't about to tell Dan that.

"I stayed out for most of the night," Dan told them. "You wouldn't believe who I saw."

Laurie had to bite her tongue to keep from asking if it was Ozymandias.

"Who did you see, Dan?" Laurie asked, while struggling to keep from bursting out laughing.

"Captain Carnage."

"Oh." Laurie frowned. "What happened?"

"Well, you wouldn't believe it," Dan laughed. "It's kind of embarrassing to say, actually."

Laurie sat up in her seat.

"What?" she asked.

"I was making my rounds as per usual," said Dan, looking quite eager to be talking, "And who do I see but Captain Carnage? He looked like he was loitering, but not doing anything wrong in particular. So I was staring at him and him at me until he finally asked me, 'So what are you waiting for? Shouldn't you give me a beating?' And I asked him, 'Why -- have you done something wrong?' and he said, 'Yes, I've been naughty, oh so naughty. You should punish me.' Now at this point I was getting weirded out by this, I mean, especially the way he was looking at me. So I said no thanks and left. Can you believe it, he started following me down the street, saying 'Punish me', so I started walking faster, and he was chasing after me, screaming, 'Punish me, punish me!' I was so mortified, I called it a night after that."

Nelly laughed. Laurie tried to, but her own memory of Captain Carnage was all too fresh in her mind.

"That happened to me too," Laurie sighed. "I mean, not exactly like that, but similar."

"What's up with that guy," laughed Dan. "Some kind of masochist?"

"I guess so," Laurie said. She glanced at Walter, who was looking at her. She looked down to realize he had written in the notepad. She picked it up and read it:

"_There aren't enough words to describe it._"

For a moment Laurie didn't know what Walter meant, until she remembered what they had been discussing last through their little mode of communication. She looked up and smiled at Walter. She wrote down, 'You're sweet' and handed it back to him. Walter took it, and gave it back to her with a drawing of a piece of candy. Laurie smiled again and drew a bag of sugar and passed it back. Walter added a little jar marked 'Honey' and handed her the notepad. Laurie drew a few strands of sugar cane and returned the notepad to him. Walter raised an eyebrow and wrote something and gave it back:

"_Ozymandias?_"

Laurie gave Walter a mock glare, then giggled. She drew a sausage and passed the notepad back. Walter gave her a look of false indignation, as if he hadn't thought of the idea to begin with. He added some eggs and a platter to make the drawing less suggestive. Laurie felt sad when she saw the eggs, reminded of her father. She wrote down her feelings on the notepad:

"_I miss my Dad. I got a letter from him and he sounded so sad._"

Walter took the notepad and read it. He paused, then wrote something down and gave it back.

"_I miss him too. I wish your mother could have gone to war instead._"

Laurie read the note and smiled. She wrote in it and gave it back to Walter:

"_She would have caused more wars if that was the case._"

Walter read it, then turned and nodded to her. He was smiling. Laurie was glad to see him looking better again. She reached out her hand and he took it. They sat in silence for a while, just enjoying the simple connection of their palms.

-----

To be continued...

-----

AN: Thank you, Vaudeville, for the wonderful notepad idea. I forgot to thank her also for the idea of Blake writing to Laurie. :)


	52. Chapter 52

Ch. 52

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive?" Walter asked Nelly, as they climbed out of the car. It was towards evening, around two hours before sunset, and they had decided to stop for a brief lunch.

"Oh, definitely sure," said Nelly, patting Walter on the shoulder as if he had done this many times before. "Dan and I will manage."

In the course of their day's journey, Dan and Nelly had somehow talked themselves into taking turns driving. They had decided on having Dan sleep while Nelly drove, then Nelly switch off and sleep while Dan drove and so on. Nelly claimed that this was the most efficient way to handle the long trip. They seemed quite the giddy pair of boys about this little adventure, and Walter couldn't help but smile a little at their enthusiasm.

"I can't believe we're only in Indiana," Laurie exclaimed, as she looked around.

"We're making great progress," Nelly said, putting his arm around Laurie in an affectionate manner. "Don't worry, Laurie -- we'll be in California in no time."

"How much longer do we have left?" she asked, smiling at him.

"Two days at the most, I bet," said Nelson. "If we go at this pace, less than that."

They went inside a diner and ate together. Dan and Nelly were planning the trip to California there, discussing the best routes to take and time management. After they were done eating, Walter was watching Dan and Nelly argue over a map when Laurie looked at him and cleared her throat.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Laurie announced, flashing her eyebrows at Walter as she got up.

"All right," said Nelly, absent-mindedly, as he poured over the map. Laurie wasn't taking her eyes off of Walter, and he got up with her.

"I'm going for a walk," Walter said. He didn't hear Nelly's reply -- he was busy stalking after Laurie. She led him to a more private area in the back.

"What's going on?" Walter asked her.

"We're going to be stuck in that car with Dan and Nelly for another two days," she told him.

Walter raised an eyebrow at her, but Laurie threw her arms around him and kissed him before he could inquire further. Walter allowed his hands to fly up to her waist and rest against it as he leaned into her, kissing her in return. Walter hadn't realized how much he had wanted to touch her until that moment, when he felt as if he were going to melt with her from just their contact. He could hear Laurie sigh into him and he pressed closer to her, savoring the feel of the moment with great intensity so he could relive it again later in his mind. They kissed for a long while, hands going in places that would make Walter blush to look at if he saw it from an outsider's perspective. They eventually parted with great reluctance, and went back through separate ways as if they hadn't wandered off together.

Walter didn't realize how much time had gone by until he came back and found Dan and Nelly waiting outside the diner.

"There you are," exclaimed Nelly. "We were wondering where you were. Where's Laurie?"

Laurie appeared just then, looking quite casual with her hands in her pockets.

"Sorry," said Laurie, "I went for a walk and lost track of the time."

Dan gave them a strange look, but he said nothing. The four of them once more piled into the car. Nelly was back to driving again, and Dan settled in as he tried to sleep. Walter took the notepad from where it was resting between him and Laurie and started to write on a new page:

"_Journal Entry, June 23, 1969 -- I'm stuck in a car with Nelly and Dan. It could be worse, but luckily Laurie is here. Wish I could talk to her properly, though. It's kind of cramped back here, and a little stifling, even._"

Walter paused and glanced at Laurie. She was looking through a paper bag, the one she had gotten from the general store a few states back. Walter wondered what else she had bought. Laurie glanced up and smiled when she caught Walter watching her. Walter smiled in return. Laurie settled in her seat as if she was going to nap, though there was still probably more than an hour of evening sun left. Walter turned back to the page, looking at what he wrote, then started to write again:

"_Setting sun in the horizon, pointing towards Agent Orange. How appropriate the colors of the sky -- it could only be made perfect if the clouds formed the mocking features of a forced smile. Nelson is oblivious, as is Dan. How little we know of the road that stretches out before us, twisting like the curls of rope that could lead to a trap or even to the net that is cast with a final toss over a murderer on the loose. Laurie knows, but she follows nevertheless; her loyalty has certainly been proven but who knows how she would be in the face of true peril._"

Walter blanked out for a moment, and when he finally saw what he had written, he frowned. Did he usually sound like that? He almost tore up the paper, but he just shook his head and resumed writing:

"_I suppose the trip isn't as bad as I had initially imagined it was going to be. Dan and Nelly are surprisingly quiet, and it's good to have Laurie here._"

Walter turned to look at Laurie. He didn't feel like writing anymore. It had started off as a bit of a joke, but he didn't have anything amusing to show Laurie now. Even if he had, she was dozing off already so he gave up and tossed the notepad aside. Maybe he wasn't suited for this whole journal-writing business.

The sky gave way from deep orange to darker purple hues and finally blackness as the car continued on into the night. Walter looked around him, at the occasional passing car, at the back of Nelly's head, and Dan's sleeping form. Then he looked at Laurie. It was pretty dark in the car, and he had an idea. He would normally hesitate with something like this, but he didn't think Nelly or Dan would notice even if it was relatively light. Walter shifted in his seat and put his arm around Laurie. She stirred a little then looked up, smiled sleepily, and settled her head against his shoulder. Walter rested his chin on Laurie's head and sighing, he closed his eyes for a moment.

Walter would occasionally awaken to the sound of the engine roaring. At one point the car stopped and Nelly and Dan switched seats. Walter opened his eyes to check on them, but didn't move to let go of Laurie. The car started again, and Walter fell into a deeper sleep. When he awoke, the sky was pink behind them. Laurie was still asleep, and it seemed Nelly was barely coming out of his own slumber.

Walter watched the sun rise and the scenery around them grow brighter. Laurie made a small sound next to him as she woke up. She pulled away from Walter as she sat up straighter. Walter let his arm fall to his side again and had to stretch slightly to bring the feeling back to his limbs. Laurie gave Walter a slightly blurry smile that made her look sweet. She put her head back on the seat and closed her eyes for a moment.

Walter looked for the notepad he had exchanged back and forth with Laurie the night before but couldn't find it. He searched around the seats, then pulled out the paper bag at Laurie's feet. He rifled through it, not really expecting to find the notepad, but curious about what she had purchased anyway. Two more notepads, some apples, a spare pen, a brush, contraceptives, and...

Wait, what?

Walter stared at the package in his hand and blinked to see if the words that identified its contents would go away and be replaced by something else; that it would be a mistake on his part, and they were really aspirin after all, or cough syrup. He looked up to find Laurie staring at his hand as if she couldn't recall purchasing the item.

"Just in case," she told him, finally.

Walter tossed Laurie's purchases back in the bag and handed them to her without a word. He felt his face burning, and he looked out the window for a few seconds to clear his head.

"Morning already?" Nelly asked, as he stretched.

"Hey, Nelly," said Dan. Then he looked in the rear-view mirror. "Everybody ready for some breakfast?"

"Sure," said Laurie. Nelly agreed, and Walter just nodded and pretended words had come out of his mouth.

"Nearest eatery is fifteen miles," Dan said. "Saw a sign a couple of minutes back, so we should be there soon."

"I wish I could stretch out my legs, more than anything," said Laurie.

"I know what would help us," Dan grinned, then started to sing, "She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes."

"Oh, no," said Laurie, laughing.

"That's what I'm talking about," said Nelly, as he joined in, "She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes."

Walter closed his eyes for a moment and cringed, but couldn't help but chuckle at the scene. Nelly and Dan sang their hearts out for Walter and Laurie all the way to the rest stop.

"She'll be coming 'round the mountain..."

Walter looked out the window. The flat prairie stretched out before him, making their surroundings look barren and cold, even though Walter could already feel the day's heat coming through the window. This was a new world, and the sky seemed bigger in this place, where there was not a building in sight for miles.

"She'll be coming 'round..."

Mesmerized by the beauty of this foreign landscape, Walter slipped into a dream-like state and remained there for the rest of the morning.

-----

To be continued...


	53. Chapter 53

Ch. 53

It was well into Wednesday evening by the time they made it to their destination. The excitement of arriving in the state of California wore off when they rode on for hours afterwards without stopping. Nelly kept assuring them that they were almost there, but even when they hit the coastline and drove with the ocean to their side, they did not stop. Laurie briefly wondered if Nelly was going to drive them straight into the sea and keep insisting even underwater that they were almost there.

They passed a sign marked 'Huntington Beach', but Laurie did not pay much attention to it. It wasn't until they neared a hotel that she became enthusiastic.

"We're staying at a beach?" Laurie exclaimed, as she craned her neck to eagerly peer out the window. "I thought we were going to Los Angeles?"

"I was told that Los Angeles city itself might be too dangerous," Nelly explained. "The conference is going to be close to this area. I suppose it is a more convenient location."

Laurie's excitement grew tenfold as they drove up to the hotel. She had expected something like a motel she had to stay in with her mother once when they visited her mother's sister. What she saw before them was absolutely marvelous.

"Wow," said Laurie. "Did they really pay for us to stay here?"

"They certainly did," Nelly said. "It's nice, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I feel kind of shabby coming to this place dressed like this," said Dan.

The hotel exterior was blinding white -- it looked like an older structure but still sharp and smooth as if it were built only yesterday. Inside it was even better. High ceilings with magnificent chandeliers and strong wooden beams, along with a red plush carpet that stretched up a grand staircase made for a wonderful welcome to weary eyes. Even at this hour there were plenty of people to form small crowds in the lobby, and Laurie had to hold on to Walter's hand to keep from running around the place to look at everything. She whispered excitedly to Walter while Nelly handled the check-in process. Soon they were on the fourth-floor, where Nelly struggled to get the lock open.

"Are we all staying in one room?" Laurie asked Dan.

Dan shrugged and started to reply, but Nelly managed to get the door open and stepped aside, leaving Laurie to stare into the room with awe.

It wasn't just a room, but a suite. Before them was a large living area with plush carpeting, a large sofa and matching chairs, a television, desk, table, and even flowers. Nelly ushered them inside and closed the door behind them. Laurie couldn't believe it. Beyond the living room was a small kitchen, even a dining area. There were two separate rooms adjacent to each other and both contained two queen-sized beds. Each bedroom had a bathroom inside that, combined, were practically the size of Walter's apartment. Laurie had to turn on the bathtub faucet in one just to see if it was real.

"What a beautiful place," Nelly said, nodding. "They are treating us well."

"Oh, Nelly," Laurie said, wanting to jump up and down but containing herself, somehow, "I really wish we could live here."

Nelly laughed.

"Well, I don't know about that," he said. "These are tight quarters, and I'm pretty sure we would start getting on each other's nerves after a while."

Laurie felt her eyes go immediately to Dan, who was gesturing while talking to Walter. Walter didn't really seem to be listening -- he had been pretty much silent the rest of the trip to California, and Laurie regretted letting him search through her bag.

"Speaking of living here," said Nelly, "How will we arrange ourselves in the rooms? I mean--"

"I'll stay with Dan," Walter said, quickly. Laurie gave him a look, but he was turned away from her.

"Oh," said Nelly, looking a little surprised. He glanced at Laurie. "Well, all right."

Laurie tried to make eye contact with Walter, but he was already marching into one of the rooms, with Dan following.

"Are you okay with this arrangement, Laurie?" Nelly asked. "If you're uncomfortable, I could move to the living room--"

"No," Laurie interrupted. "It's all right, Nelly -- don't worry about it."

Laurie smiled at him. Nelly smiled back, and helped her bring her suitcase into their room. Laurie claimed the bed by the window. After Nelly set her suitcase down, he moved his own to the other bed and peered into the bathroom.

"Well," said Nelly, smiling, "I don't know about you, but I could really use a shower. Do you mind if I go ahead? Or would you rather..."

"Please, go ahead," Laurie told him, "I'll take my turn after you."

Nelly nodded gratefully and took his suitcase into the bathroom with him. Laurie folded her arms and paced the room for a moment as she heard the shower running. She walked to the window and glanced outside, briefly noting how close to the ocean the hotel was. She sighed and finally left the room to go to Dan and Walter's. The door was still open, and Dan was talking.

"...I was thinking that it would probably be a bad idea to invest in something like that," Dan was saying, as Laurie cautiously peered into the room.

Dan had apparently claimed the bed furthest away from the door, and he was already making himself at home by moving his belongings to the chest of drawers next to it. Walter was rummaging through his pack and pulling out papers. Laurie cleared her throat. Walter glanced up, and Dan squinted at her through his glasses with a half-smile.

"Uh, could I speak to Walter alone please, Dan?" Laurie asked him. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, uh, sure," Dan said, wiping his hands on his shirt. "Uh, let me call Hollis or something. I know there's a phone in the living room..."

Dan pushed past Laurie with his head down.

"Or the lobby..." Laurie heard him say. Then he was gone. Laurie looked at Walter, who was back to sifting through papers again.

"Walter," Laurie said, "Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"Then why are you staying with Dan?"

"It's more appropriate."

Laurie scratched her head.

"Why?" she asked him.

"It's indecent for us to be staying in one room together," Walter told her, as he finally looked up.

"But we usually do, Walter."

"Yes, but they don't know that."

"I'm sure they must guess--"

"No, Laurie. It's already done. Stop asking."

"Well, fine," Laurie sighed. "I'll go have a sleepover with Nelly while you chum it up with Dan."

"I will."

Laurie made an exasperated sound and left the room. She sat down on the living room couch with her hands clenched in her lap. After a moment, she realized the shower had died down, so she got up and waited for Nelly. When he emerged from the bathroom, she went in herself and showered. She came out feeling much better -- she was still tired and cramped after the long car ride, but the shower did make things more tolerable. Nelly was on the phone, so Laurie went to her bed and opened her suitcase, looking inside for her essentials while Nelly talked.

"Yes, of course," Nelly was saying. "Tomorrow is perfectly fine. Yes, we can speak more in person then. Thank you. Yes, good night."

Nelly hung up and smiled at Laurie.

"Leader of the Los Angeles crime fighter group," he explained to her. "We're going to discuss the details of the upcoming conference in person on Friday."

Laurie nodded and tried to be more interested, but she just didn't care right now. She sighed, feeling miserable all of a sudden. Nelly stood up.

"Well, I'm tired as heck," he said, "But I'm also starved. What say you we try finding a place to eat downstairs?"

"Okay," said Laurie, feeling a better despite herself. She took Nelly's hand, and he seemed a little surprised, but he smiled at her nonetheless. They found a cafe on the first floor and enjoyed a small dinner before they came back up. It was fairly late, but Laurie could still hear Dan talking behind the closed door to his and Walter's room. Laurie frowned at the door, wishing she could be talking to Walter instead and followed Nelly back to their own room.

Laurie and Nelly bid each other good night and settled in. Laurie wanted more time to think on her own, but she found herself drifting off to sleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow. She woke up to find enough sunshine coming through the cracks in the curtains to indicate that it must be fairly late into the morning. She looked up to find Nelly making his bed. He wasn't dressed yet, so she surmised he hadn't been up that long either. Nelly looked up and smiled at her.

"Good morning," he said to her, "Or should I say afternoon?"

"Is it really afternoon?" Laurie asked, sitting up in a panic.

"No, it's actually seven o'clock," Nelly said, pointing the bedside clock out to her.

"It feels so much later," Laurie sighed, as she stepped out of bed. "It's so bright."

"Remember the time difference," Nelly shrugged at her. "And the fact that it's California, so things are bound to be brighter here."

Laurie and Nelly took turns getting refreshed and ready for the day. When they came out of their room, Laurie could still hear Dan talking and wondered if he had talked all through the night. She almost burst out laughing at the thought, but stopped herself. She thought the image might be too strange to explain to Nelly, though she was sure Walter would have enjoyed it. Thinking of Walter, Laurie felt a little sad. She watched Nelly as he walked to the door and knocked.

"Come in," said Dan's voice.

Nelly opened the door and peered inside.

"We're going to breakfast, would you like to join us?" Nelly asked.

"Sure," said Dan, emerging from the room fully dressed. Walter followed behind him, also dressed, but looking significantly more tired and sullen than Dan, who seemed to be in the running for morning person of the year. The four of them went down and found themselves a table and ordered breakfast.

"What are your plans for today?" Nelly asked nobody in particular as they waited for their food to arrive.

"I thought maybe we could go to the beach," Laurie said, eagerly. "Do you want to go, Walter?"

"No," he said, looking offended. "You know I had plans."

"Well, I thought since we just got here--"

"_No_."

Laurie blinked at Walter, but he wasn't making eye contact so she couldn't determine why he had used such a forceful tone.

"I could go with you," said Dan, looking up. "I mean, if you don't want to go alone or anything."

"No, it's okay," said Laurie, waving her hand. "I'll just go later, I guess."

"Hmm," said Nelly, "I'm going to the shopping center nearby -- I need to pick up a few things. I could get anything you guys need, or if you want to go with me..."

"I'll go with you," Laurie told him.

"Hey, me too," said Dan. Then he looked expectantly at Walter, who ignored him. Laurie was a little embarrassed by Walter's behavior.

They finished breakfast in relative silence; Walter first to accomplish the task, he excused himself without a second glance at Laurie as he left. Laurie stared after him, feeling hurt. She glared at Dan for some reason, but he seemed oblivious. After breakfast, Laurie followed Nelly and Dan feeling glum. Luckily Dan had gotten into a conversation with Nelly, and both of them were too busy talking to the other to include Laurie in. She was fine with that -- she was in no mood to speak with them. She lagged behind a little as they perused clothing racks. They had somehow ended up in the men's wear section of a department store, and Laurie couldn't remember when she had last been this bored.

"Hey," said a male voice.

Laurie looked up to find a dark-haired young man staring at her. He had a smile on his face, and his eyes flickered downwards for a moment before he came closer.

"Uh, hello," said Laurie, glancing around for a moment and feeling nervous.

"I just saw you walking around here and thought I'd talk," he explained. "You shopping for your dad or something?"

"No," she said, folding her arms.

The man was about to speak when Dan appeared by her side.

"She has a boyfriend you know," said Dan, adjusting his glasses. The man smirked.

"Who? You?"

"No," said Dan, sounding astonished. "And if he sees you chatting her up like that, he's going to have you killed."

"I don't see what's wrong with exchanging a few words," the man said, shrugging.

"Not when he's concerned," Dan said with a frown. "Now beat it."

The man seemed like he wanted to say something but he shrugged again and left. Laurie frowned.

"You didn't have to do that," Laurie told Dan.

"Oh yeah?" Dan asked. "What were you going to do, let him hit on you?"

"I could have told him to get lost if he got weird."

"Look, he was totally chatting you up, and I'm not about to get my ass handed to me by Walter because I didn't do anything to stop it from happening."

"It's not like Walter's going to find out," Laurie said, as she folded her arms.

"I'm sure knowing Walter, he predicted this two days ago," Dan grinned.

Laurie looked at her feet. She could hear Dan shuffling his own next to her.

"Dan, can you keep a secret?" Laurie asked him.

"Uh, sure," Dan said, though he looked nervous.

"It's just about why Walter is really here," Laurie said, softly. "It's to capture Agent Orange."

"What? Right now?"

"Yeah, he's here in California -- or at least, Walter's convinced he is."

"Ah. Well."

"Well indeed." Laurie felt her stomach tighten. "That's why I coaxed Nelly into bringing us here to begin with."

Dan stared for a moment until he burst out laughing.

"Wow," he said, shaking his head.

Laurie shrugged her shoulders and continued to avoid Dan's eyes.

"I don't know, Dan," said Laurie, sighing, "He seems to be so intent on catching Agent Orange, he pushes so many other things in his life away."

"You mean, like you?"

"I am one of those _things_ I guess," Laurie frowned.

"Well," Dan adjusted his glasses. "I have no personal experience I can relate to you, but I know how Ozymandias used to be so obsessed with this Agent Orange guy."

"Yeah, except you were never dating Ozymandias," Laurie sighed.

"Uh, yeah," said Dan, looking quite nervous all of a sudden. "My point is, I guess it's just something that happens once you focus in on the case, you know? Something you see that's just hard to look away from once you're in. Agent Orange is a creep. I'm sure Walter's mind is just bogged down with the details of this case and it makes him come off as a little aloof."

"I guess," Laurie said, looking up at Dan, finally. "But, you know, I wish I could help Walter with this. He seems so determined about keeping it all to himself, I feel isolated."

Dan frowned and said nothing, so Laurie continued.

"I mean, at first I thought nothing much of it -- I thought he was dedicated to his work and figured this would end soon enough with his capture, but every day Agent Orange is out there on the loose I feel Walter drifting away. I mean, he doesn't even need my help anymore. He doesn't ask for it, at least."

Dan gave Laurie a sympathetic look. She sighed deeply.

"There are two sides to him," she said. "Walter and Rorschach. I'm not even saying they're different people, just different sides of the same person. That was okay -- I got along with both. They're both sweet in their own ways -- gosh, I'm talking as if they are different people, aren't I?"

Laurie laughed and held up her hands, but Dan was just studying her with sad eyes.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is," Laurie said, finding it harder to speak. Had she really felt this way all along? "Is that at some point, both Rorschach and Walter liked me. Now, not so much. Walter will be sweet to me, but Rorschach seems almost disgusted with me. And every day he spends on this case, the longer he stays Rorschach. I feel like some kind of after thought -- I mean, on the surface we get along for the most part..."

Laurie suddenly remembered with great clarity, the conversation she had with Walter regarding her mother. Walter's voice was so strong in her head. _Sometimes things just don't work out when you look at them realistically. Beneath the surface, even._

Had Walter been referring to the two of them? Laurie felt sick at the thought and had to steady herself on a clothes rack. Dan looked alarmed.

"Laurie, are you all right?"

"I don't know, Dan," said Laurie, feeling heartbroken. "Is it wrong? Do we have a chance?"

"You and Walter?"

"Crime fighters and relationships in general," she said, grabbing his arm. "Is it too much to ask for a normal relationship when your life revolves around the sort of things we do?"

"Well, I..." Dan started to shrug, but he straightened himself and looked serious. "Well, sometimes I would like to think that it would be much better if I could put up my mantle; to retire and let the police do their work. Sometimes I would like to think that things would be great if I didn't have to worry about rape and murder and all the violent things that happen at night. But at the same time, I know crime fighting is a big part of what makes me feel alive. Maybe you might not come from the same place as me, but that's how it is for me. I don't really feel like me unless I'm Nite Owl II. And if I had that taken away from me, I don't think I could live with myself anymore."

"And do you think that being Nite Owl II is more important than any other aspect of your life?" Laurie was afraid to hear the answer.

"That's difficult to say," said Dan, "Considering I think I know what you are trying to get at."

Laurie nodded, a little disappointed and relieved at the same time. Dan suddenly took her shoulder.

"You know about me and the Twilight Lady," he told her, grimly, "And the best part about her was that she accepted me as Nite Owl II -- only knew me as him, in fact. I guess it's kind of twisted, knowing I was supposed to apprehend her and she was supposed to be fighting against me, but at the same time, we didn't want the other to change. We made do with what we had, and if she had asked me to stop being Nite Owl II, then maybe I would have. But, I might have resented her for that, if she had."

Dan started to laugh.

"Am I boring you to death?" he asked her, as Laurie shook her head. "Sorry. I run on weird tangents sometimes. You know what, Laurie? Maybe if you asked Nite Owl II he would have a different answer for you, but you're asking Dan, and I have to tell you this -- crime fighting is a greater part of my life, but I have another life beyond that. When you come home, you just need to know when to switch off. Otherwise, crime fighting is going to be all you have left."

Laurie nodded and looked far into the distance.

"Thank you, Dan," she said, slowly.

"You're welcome. Feeling better?"

Laurie smiled, unable to find an answer. She was relieved when Dan didn't pry for one, because she really was feeling miserable.

-----

To be continued...


	54. Chapter 54

Ch. 54

Walter had spent all day looking for as much information as he could possibly find on Hooded Justice II. He had started at the library, hoping that they would have more than the local newspaper, which they did, fortunately. Walter not only found articles that explicitly mentioned Hooded Justice II, but he also looked into as many recently reported murder cases as he could get his hands on. When Walter was finally forced out of the library at closing hour, he returned to the hotel room where he spent the evening in the living area, drawing up patterns and possible predictions on Agent Orange's next course.

Nelly, Dan, and Laurie came in later on, and Nelly quickly went into his room, while Dan looked at both Laurie and Walter before he muttered something and went back out again. Laurie hovered at the door for a moment before she came closer to Walter.

"Hi Walter," she said.

Walter nodded but said nothing.

"We didn't go to the beach," she told him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Walter asked, looking up.

Laurie held up her hands.

"I thought you might get mad if I went to the beach with Dan," she told him. "I was with him and Nelly all day."

"Good for you."

"Okay," said Laurie, frowning.

Walter sighed and turned back to his writing, closing his eyes for a moment when he realized the words were swimming in front of him.

"I'm sorry," said Walter, feeling a little ashamed. "I'm just very tired."

"Didn't you sleep?" Laurie asked. She came to his side and gave him a sympathetic look.

"No," he said. "I was thinking too much about what I was going to do with this case."

"Maybe I could help you."

"No," he said, a little more harshly than he had intended. "You enjoy yourself while I handle this."

"But we've always worked together, Rorschach, why can't I work with you now?"

Walter gave her a strange look. Why did she just call him that? She didn't seem to have noticed, as she was staring at him while waiting for him to reply.

"This is between him and me," he told her, finally.

Laurie sighed.

"I feel useless sitting around doing nothing while you obsess over this case."

"That's unfortunate," said Walter, stiffly.

Laurie turned and gave Walter a level look, but said nothing for a moment.

"Walter," she asked him, calmly, "Why did you invite me along?"

Walter stared at her, unable to respond. Would she be angry with him if he told her it was because he wanted to keep an eye on her? Because he was afraid of the mischief she might get into if he let her out of his sight? It made him ashamed to think of the level of faith he had in their relationship. He was planning on marrying this woman, and he couldn't trust her to behave herself while he was gone.

Walter held up his hands to Laurie, feeling as if his heart was twisting in his chest. Laurie took one hand and held it to her cheek.

"If you need anything," she said to him, "Any help -- even writing things down if you need it, I'll be here. Okay?"

Walter nodded, though he knew he was never going to take her up on the offer.

"Thank you," he told her, in a quiet voice. Laurie nodded, but looked distant.

"Good night, Walter," she said sadly as she turned away.

"Good night," he told her as she left him and went into her room. Walter felt compelled to go after her, to kiss her and tell her that everything would be all right once Agent Orange was behind bars, but somehow he felt that he would be lying to her. Something was unraveling around them, slipping out from under their feet and making them fall backwards and he didn't know how to stop it.

Suddenly, Walter felt too tired to focus on anything, let alone Agent Orange. He got up and went to bed. He was dismayed to find that Dan was in a talkative mood. He was discussing trivialities and Walter felt as if he were stalling somehow. Walter decided to ignore the man and drown him out so he could get some sleep, when Dan finally got to the point of what he was apparently trying to tell Walter.

"I stopped three guys from hitting on Laurie today," Dan said, suddenly.

"What?" Walter asked, his eyes flying open.

"Yeah," Dan was nodding at him. His glasses were off so Walter knew he must be just a blur to Dan, but Dan was focused on looking at Walter as if he could see every detail of his facial expression. "Exactly."

"Where was this?"

"The shopping center -- look, does it matter?" Dan sighed. "It felt really weird having to do that, but you know, it happens a lot."

"What?"

"I mean, it's not just something that happens here," Dan said. "I've had to do it back at home a couple of times, but it just was never like it was today. I mean, they're more aggressive here; bolder or something. Or maybe just nuts. But it's really embarrassing to have to tell them that I'm not her boyfriend but I'm working on behalf of him to make them go away."

"What is Laurie's part in all this?"

"I don't know -- being pretty?" Dan shrugged. "And she's friendly?"

"Why are you telling me?"

"I don't know, Walter," Dan's voice was a little louder at that moment. "Maybe so you can be there next time when someone hits on your girlfriend?"

"I can't be in two places at once."

"Yeah, exactly."

Walter glared furiously at Dan, but Dan really couldn't see anything beyond his nose without his glasses. Dan just blinked a lot at Walter and sat there staring in his direction. Why did Dan have to mention this _now_? He didn't want to deal with this right now, let alone the sickening rage that made his blood boil as a result of hearing the news.

"Look, Walter," said Dan, holding up his hand, "Laurie told me about the Agent Orange thing, so I can't help but say..."

Walter flinched a little. Why did Laurie tell _him_ about Agent Orange?

"I know how Ozy was about this whole business," Dan continued. "He got really weird about it, didn't want to work with me anymore because he was so focused on solving this case. And I can see this happening with you. Not just talking about your romantic relationship with Laurie, but you as crime fighting partners. It's really lame to be left out like that, you know?"

"Yes," said Walter, feeling weak.

"Oh, well, good night," said Dan. His voice sounded angry, and he wrenched the lamp cord a little more viciously than necessary. Walter could hear him scrambling under the covers in the darkness.

Dan had started snoring by the time Walter's eyes had adjusted to the dark. Walter stared out at the shadows around him, feeling cold. What had happened? He thought he was doing so well with Laurie, and he thought they had an agreement. He told her that he would be focusing on Agent Orange when they arrived, but it seemed she had somehow planned for other things in her mind.

_Just think about it as a vacation with the possibility of catching a criminal on top of it._

Walter could see Laurie's words -- from the note they had passed in the car -- clear as day in his mind. Was this all that was to her? A vacation? Why did she not understand the importance of this task? When had she started compromising her beliefs? He thought she was a crime fighter, like him. He thought she had valued what he did, thought she would understand why Agent Orange had to be caught. _That is because she has not truly seen his work. She has never had to be face to face with what he could cause. You can't blame her for that -- you should teach her if you want her about_.

Walter wondered for a moment about that begrudging voice. The voice seemed intent on telling him more, but Walter could not help but close his eyes a little. The voice was nagging at him, but Walter batted at it in his mind. Not dealing with this right now. Eventually he fell asleep and eased himself into a troubled dream.

In his dream, Walter was floating above the city as if he were flying, somehow. It wasn't the city he had been in just moments before, and even in the dream Walter knew that something wasn't right. He knew he must be asleep somewhere else, but knowing this he somehow did not come back awake but sank even deeper into the dream.

Walter flew above the city and its empty streets -- empty but for the alleyways, all filled with bodies, rank and diseased and putrifying, so disgusting that even the flies would not touch them. The smell of death and decay hung so thickly from the carcasses they seemed to pour out into the streets as physical matter. Blood ran from the corpses that were so bloated and rotten they should not have been in any state to bleed as they did; but they did anyway. The blood was rotten too, just as putrefying as the bodies themselves, but still red and fresh as it ran down the streets and into the gutters, where Walter saw a hundred bony fingers grasping out from the dark grilles that led under the city.

Feeling a panic of knowing familiarity, Walter scanned the areas, searching for any signs of civilization, just one glimpse of another soul. He finally caught sight of one lone man walking down the street ahead of him, head hanging low as each weary footstep brought him further down into the darkness and into a cold world Walter did not want to understand.

Walter was hovering haphazardly over the figure now, wavering as he tried to control his movement, but it seemed as if he were being guided by an invisible string. He was coming dangerously close to the figure, obviously male, and Walter had to gag at the stench that came off of him. It was the stench of death, the same rotten smell that came from the streets, and on top of that some form of cologne that made it all the worse. Walter couldn't see the man's face, but he was obviously homeless. Some crazy vagrant, he imagined. Just a ghost of a human being now, his mind too far gone to bring any comfort to Walter who hungered for contact with a living being, not a shell.

The man looked up as if he saw Walter, but Walter knew he couldn't possibly see him. The man had no eyes -- no face, even, no distinguishing features. In fact, this wasn't a man at all, but darkness shaped to vaguely resemble the male human form. This mock-man opened his clothes and revealed more darkness underneath. The darkness spilled out onto the streets like fine sand, mixing with the decayed blood and twisting patterns into black and red. As the shadow-dust stretched out from the figure, it shrank away into nothing as even the clothes melted away. The stench became unbearable and Walter gagged.

From the smell seemed to come a sound. Was that possible? How can something fill your senses to such an extent that it overflowed into others? No, as crazy as it was, there were definite words coming from the gore. That was the only way Walter could explain it. If he thought of it too hard, he might just lose his mind.

_It's all so clear now_.

Simple words, harmless, even, but Walter recoiled. It wasn't just words he was hearing either, no, there were more forming before his eyes, on the ground, spelled out like an accusation in this city of death: The End Is Nigh.

No it isn't, thought Walter. It couldn't be -- that wasn't true. No matter how clear it was, no matter how many dead lay in the streets, the end wasn't anywhere near. A true end did not exist. He refused to believe. He was almost relieved when a blinding light enveloped the alley and with it took the words away. Walter watched, mesmerized, as the source of the illumination approached from near the horizon. It filled him with no small amount of disgust as he realized it was Agent Orange.

Agent Orange looked pristine pure, no sin marking his features or even his clothes or the soles of his shoes as he traversed the streets untouched and untainted.

Why you? Walter thought, but Agent Orange answered as if Walter had asked him this aloud.

_It isn't me._

Walter woke up, drenched in so much sweat he thought for one confused moment that Dan had pulled a prank on him and had thrown a bucket of water on him as he slept. Walter was all too awake, as if he had slept well into noon, but he knew it must be the middle of the night. Then why was it so bright? It Walter walter a moment to realize the bright moon was shining through the window, and was placed right over where Walter's pillow had been. Walter felt his heart racing in his chest, and he had to get out of bed to keep the panic from overtaking him.

Walter left the room and stood in the dark living room, wishing Nelly didn't exist so he could climb into Laurie's bed. So pathetic -- he stayed one night away from her and he had a panic attack when she wasn't around. Why had he suggested they stay in different rooms to begin with? What did proprities matter when it was just Nelly and Dan?

Wanting to cry out with his frustration, Walter felt his hands involuntarily raking through his hair as he tried to get a grip on himself. He paced the room, glad that given his unfamiliarity with it the room did not possess the type of furniture that was prone to being run into. He could barely contain himself as he stalked through one corner to the next.

Walter could not distinguish sight from sound from thought as his mind roiled, seemingly overloaded by senses that he could not perceive in their entirety. Walter clutched at his eyes and gave a silent scream.

_Let me take control -- you know I'm the stronger one of us_.

Walter had to look up to make sure he really hadn't heard that voice in the room and not just in his head. His confusion made him take a moment longer than was necessary to comprehend the meaning behind the words.

"No," said Walter, not caring who heard him. "No, you're not."

_You can't handle the pressure, Walter. You're not cut out for this. I am. Let me help you, and you won't ever have to worry about anything else again._

No. No, no, no. You don't understand. _You_ are the weak one. Do you know why? Because everything is black-and-white for you. Isn't it? You think you're better because your conclusions are so clean, so cut and dry. So logical. Yet, so irrational. The way you think, that only works for a world that exists in a psychopath's mind. I don't live in that world.

"You live in mine," Walter whispered.

Silence.

Walter grabbed a nearby lamp as if to throw it, but after a few seconds of waiting he relaxed his grip and sat down. He couldn't even tell if it was one of the chairs or a sofa at this point. He was too drained to care. Exhausted, Walter lay back and closed his eyes.

-----

To be continued...


	55. Chapter 55

Ch. 55

Laurie woke up early that morning, unable to sleep. She was surprised to find Walter dozing on the couch when she came out of her room. Concerned, she went to check on him, and as she leaned over him his eyes flew open. He did not seem to recognize her at first, as his eyebrows knitted with what looked like confusion.

"Walter," said Laurie, bending down to touch her hand to his face. He grabbed her hand as if he had been drowning and she had reached out to save him.

"Laurie," he said, in a raspy voice that belonged to neither Walter nor Rorschach, "Laurie, Laurie, Laurie."

"Are you all right?" asked Laurie, studying him closely. His eyes seemed alert and bright, and intense in a way that was unsettling.

"Yes," he closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he seemed a little better, somehow. Looked less pale.

"Why are you sleeping on the couch? Is Dan bothering you?"

"No, had a nightmare." He laughed as he sat up. "I guess it must sound foolish, running out in the night like a child, as if I can't handle anything on my own."

"Not at all," Laurie said, and she sat down by his side.

Walter was looking into her eyes, and she was looking back. They gazed for a long moment, entranced.

"What are you going to do with me?" Walter asked, again in that odd voice.

Laurie opened her mouth to answer, but she found she really didn't know what to think of this query. She briefly wondered if she was dreaming.

"What do you mean, Walter?" she asked, finally.

"How long are you going to wait for me? Indefinitely? Or are you already sick of me?"

Laurie lowered her eyes.

"I'm not sick of you," she said. "You're not sick of me, are you?"

"No," said Walter, frowning. And he sounded normal again. "No, why would you think that?"

Laurie frowned, unable to really say why. She was afraid that he would agree with her in the end and that would be that. Instead she tentatively reached out and hugged Walter, worried that somehow he would feel different against her. He didn't. He was still strong and soft at the same time and brimming with the incredible warmth that always seemed to radiate off of him when she was near him. She almost sobbed with relief.

"I really miss you, you know that?" she told him. "I know that must sound nuts; we were cramped in a car for two days together, but I don't mean it like that."

Laurie paused, but Walter wasn't saying anything.

"I wish I could go with you," said Laurie, "Solve this with you. Be with you. I want to share everything with you, Walter. I don't want to be left out -- it gets lonely by myself."

Walter was silent, so Laurie finally pulled away to look at him after a while. His cheeks were pink, and his eyes looked warm and bright as he gazed at her.

"I'm very sorry, but..." Walter said pausing for a moment, and Laurie braced herself for rejection. "But, I thought you didn't want this."

"What?" Laurie asked, surprised. "What are you saying, Walter?"

"Agent Orange," he shrugged. "I thought you wouldn't understand it. Nobody does until they see what he is capable of."

"Then show me," Laurie said, grabbing his shoulders. "I won't break, you know. I'm not made of glass. I can handle anything Agent Orange can throw at me. We're partners, remember?"

"Yes." He was nodding, and a small smile began to appear on his lips. Laurie felt relieved. He was looking like his old self again.

"Let me help you, Walter," said Laurie. "I can't just be part of one of your lives -- otherwise, this isn't going to work out."

"Yes," he said again, and this time he looked relieved. "You don't mind at all?"

"Mind what?"

"Having to juggle both."

"Of course not," Laurie laughed. "That's how we met, remember? There was a time when you were two people to me, Walter. Don't forget that. I _want_ both."

"You do." Walter wasn't asking a question, though it almost seemed it was intended as such. His eyes were full of emotion as they roamed over her facial features as if he couldn't get his fill of her.

"Yes," Laurie assured him, and held his face for a moment until he pressed forward and kissed her in a way that made her shudder.

"I love you, Laurie," he told her, and his eyes seemed to have been set ablaze. "I'm so glad... so thankful to have met you."

"Me too," Laurie said, wiping her eyes. "I love you too, Walter."

"You've been nothing but good to me," he said, stroking her cheek and looking at her as if admiring her.

"And you too."

"Don't lie. I make it difficult and you know it."

"Maybe sometimes," Laurie admitted.

Walter hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Just tell me," he said. "Just tell me what to do and I will do it. Just tell me when I'm doing wrong and I will correct it."

Laurie tried to protest, but he took her hands and put them to his chest..

"I would do anything for you," Walter said, as he kissed her fingers. "Give anything to you."

"Walter, I would too," Laurie was struggling to keep the tears from falling.

"I know," he was smiling at her, and his face looked quite honest and open to her that moment, almost shining. For a brief few seconds he looked like a little boy, innocent and full of unconditional love, and she couldn't help but cry then.

"Thank you," she told him, as she kissed first his mouth, then his chin, then his ear. His hands moved to the small of her back in a familiar gesture, and he drew her closer. They sat in each other's embrace for a long while, until Dan emerged suddenly from his room, causing Walter and Laurie to jump back.

"Hey," said Dan. "Were you waiting for me?"

"Uh, sure," said Laurie, laughing. "Breakfast, right?"

"Yeah. Where's Nelly?"

"I don't know," Laurie shrugged. "I was up pretty early, but he was already gone by then."

"Guess he went to meet up with the crime fighter guy huh?"

"I suppose so."

"Come on then," said Dan, gesturing with his head, "Let's go."

Dan led the way downstairs, Walter pausing for a moment to look at Laurie.

"We need to look into the case," he told her.

"Yes, I know," Laurie said, "But breakfast first, all right?"

"Yes," Walter agreed, but he was giving her that strange look again and pretty soon he was pushing her against the wall to kiss her.

Laurie was surprised, but she wasn't about to protest. She did remember Dan, however, and had to pull away for a moment, gasping for breath.

"Uh, what about Dan?" she asked.

They glanced over at the foot of the steps, and Dan was standing awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, looking politely to the side. Walter made a strange sound in his throat and turned to Laurie, then to Dan again.

"Go on without us," said Walter.

"Oh, uh, okay." Dan looked like he was sweating all of a sudden, and he wiped at his brow before he nodded a little too enthusiastically. "All right. I'll be downstairs... For a really long time. Okay?"

Dan ran down the stairs before Laurie could even argue. Walter was back to kissing her again, and she threw her arms around his neck to pull him closer. He was pressing into her, and Laurie gasped when Walter's hands went to her breasts.

"Walter," she exclaimed. "Are you...?"

"Do you want to?" he asked her. His eyes were gleaming again with that strange light and he looked intently at her.

"Well yes," Laurie laughed with surprise. "Just not out here."

"Right."

Walter took her hand and ushered them back into the room. He closed and locked the door behind them, then used the security chain. He pulled Laurie into her and Nelly's room and closed the door. Laurie glanced around, nervous that Nelly had managed to sneak into the room while they weren't looking. He hadn't. She turned to regard Walter, who was unbuttoning his shirt. Laurie stared, half in awe and half in shock. He tossed his shirt aside as if it offended him, then his under shirt in a similar fashion before he came closer to her. Laurie's heart started to pound with excitement. Certain that he would somehow change his mind, she started to shove him towards her bed as quickly as she could. She was planning on straddling him if she had to. Walter seemed to have a different opinion on how things would go, however. He grabbed her waist and maneuvered her onto the bed instead.

They sat side by side as they kissed, fumbling a little as Laurie helped Walter take off first her shirt, then her pants, leaving her in her underwear. Walter placed his hands on her waist again as he put her on her back and hovered over her as he simultaneously rid himself of his pants while leaving his mouth on hers. Laurie grabbed Walter by the shoulders and pulled him to her, shivering at the shock of skin meeting skin. Laurie's heart raced as she tried to enjoy the feel of Walter on her and at the same time trying to brace for everything suddenly ending abruptly and in disappointment once more. She lifted herself on her elbows to undo her top, sliding it down her arms and flinging it off to the side. Walter took care of the bottom without any prompting, then his own until they were both nude.

Laurie was blushing furiously and was glad to see that Walter's cheeks had also gone pink. Laurie let her eyes wander down from his face to his chest and his arms, smiling a little as she noticed how far the freckles spread on his body. Walter held himself over her, eyes looking into hers and he seemed to be silently mouthing words.

"What?" Laurie asked him, as her hands went to his face.

Walter shook his head and smiled. He let out a small breath before he leaned in to kiss first her mouth, then travelled downwards as he gave her a lingering kiss on each part of her body. Laurie felt a little self-conscious in her nakedness, and thought that maybe she was breathing too hard, but Walter didn't seem to mind. His hands explored her body tentatively at first, as if he were testing the surface of her skin, afraid that it would break somehow. He became increasingly assured with each passing moment, and Laurie had to grab the bed sheet in her hand when his fingers grazed her inner thigh.

Walter moved up to kiss her again, and Laurie allowed her own hands to trace patterns on first Walter's shoulders, then down towards his chest. Laurie briefly kissed his neck, noting the taste of salt on her lips and realizing that a fine sheen of sweat had formed on both their bodies. Walter shifted himself over her, and Laurie waited in anticipation. It was a little uncoordinated at first, as Walter had to try a few times before Laurie realized she had to move her hips into the correct position. Once properly situated, Walter seemed to have lost his breath and finally let go of it after a few seconds of being frozen in place on top of her. Walter finally moved against her, and Laurie felt her eyes close as she drew Walter to her, wanting to feel his chest against hers, and his hot mouth on hers as they made love.

Once they began to pick up speed, it didn't take long before Walter shuddered into her. Panting with the effort, they took a short rest before they eased into foreplay again. When they came together a second time, he was able to wait for her. Afterwards they lay in each other's arms, Laurie with her hand on Walter's chest, his heart still thundering under her palm; Walter's face buried in her hair. Walter moved his arm around her and pulled her closer to him and she could feel the pulse of his neck beneath her lips as he whispered in her ear.

Laurie drifted off to a lull between sleep and waking, Walter himself fast asleep next to her. Laurie couldn't help but bite her lip as her mind tried to catch up with what had happened. She turned to look at Walter's peaceful, sleeping form and smiled in relief. She stroked his hair briefly before she closed her eyes again, sighing. Her eyes flew open for a moment, as a nagging feeling overtook her, but she shook her head and settled back once more. In her mind she couldn't help but think they had forgotten something, but for the life of her she couldn't remember. All she knew was that she was unbelievably happy, and for now that was all that mattered.

-----

To be continued...

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Author's Note: Just in case nobody noticed, this fic just got turned to M for awkward sex. Yay! (Oh, wait, maybe I should have added this at the beginning. Oh, well! Walter tricked us all with this unexpected business!)


	56. Chapter 56

Ch. 56

Walter thought after the heat of the moment had died down, he would regret the events that had transpired; he was happy to find that he didn't -- not one bit. He woke up slowly, at first wondering if it all had been some fevered dream he had. Laurie was next to him and that wasn't really a surprising sight, but it was her state of undress that made it all come back to him. Walter found himself smiling, though he could feel his face grow hot with embarrassment at the same time.

Laurie had her eyes closed, but he knew she wasn't sleeping. His hand was on her belly and he let it slide upwards to rest on her ribcage. Laurie turned her head to gaze at him and smiled. There was something about the way she was looking at him that elicited strong emotions deep in his chest. Walter kissed her, and they sank into each other's embrace once more.

After another short rest, they went their separate ways to shower and dress. It wasn't until Walter emerged from his room and saw Laurie that he realized that they hadn't used protection. Walter froze in mid-step, eyes widening as the cold fact washed over him. Laurie paused, in the middle of unlatching the safety chain from the door, one hand hovering near the chain, and another a hand to her chest, looking alarmed.

"Walter, what's wrong?" she asked him.

"We..." Walter put his face in his hands and found it possible to answer her only if he stayed as he was. "We didn't use the... contraceptives."

Walter could hear Laurie gasp, and he looked up to find that her hand had moved to her mouth now.

"I...I thought afterwards that we had forgotten something," she said, sitting down. "Oh, Walter, what do we do?"

"I don't know," Walter said, joining her on the couch and putting his arm around her. All he could do was stare at his feet, aghast.

They sat in silence for a long while until the front door opened and Nelly walked in, with a flustered looking Dan behind him.

"Oh, there you are," said Nelly, nodding to them. "Forgot my briefcase up here."

Dan peered inside and seemed relieved when he saw them.

"I tried to stop him," said Dan. "I even took him and the other guy down to the beach to have crab cakes but eventually he insisted on coming up here."

Walter felt a little embarrassed. Had he and Laurie been that obvious? Dan wouldn't know what they had been up to, would he?

"Mm, crab cakes," said Laurie, smiling. "I'm hungry. I don't care what we eat -- we should eat now."

"Hey, I'll go with you," said Dan. Walter finally realized that Dan's forehead was beet red. He must have been on the beach all day. "Uh, unless you don't want me to..."

"No, please, if you don't mind eating again," Laurie said, glancing at Walter. Walter nodded at her.

"Yeah, why not? It's almost dinnertime anyway," Dan shrugged.

Walter jolted a little in surprise as his eyes zipped to the clock on the desk near the window. It was nearly five o'clock. How had they managed to spend so much time in the room? They had a lot of work to do. Walter was feeling lethargic and lazy, however, and decided it would be best to wait until after dinner. Dan led the way as he had that morning, and Walter had to keep his mouth from going to Laurie's neck. He had this almost drunken response towards her, as if he couldn't get enough of her. He just wanted to feel her against him again, under him. Walter sniffed a little as he felt himself blush again. Ah, his wandering mind was taking a turn on him.

They made their way down to the lobby, all the while Dan mentioning a particular restaurant he had found a few blocks down. A middle-aged man with a full head of dark hair and wide, kind eyes gave a smile as he waved at Dan as Dan passed by. Dan stopped in mid-sentence, mouth open in a little O.

"Oh! Hey guys, this is Leland," said Dan. "Or more specifically, Sir Elegy."

"Pleased to meet you," said Leland, "Fellow crime fighters, I reckon?"

"Yes," said Laurie, taking her hand off of Walter's waist to shake hands with Leland. Walter moved to do the same, interest in dinner all but forgotten as he stared at the older man.

"Where are you rushing off to?" Leland asked. "Without Nelson no less. You're not abandoning us geezers, are you?"

"Well, we were about to go for dinner, actually," said Dan.

"Dinner? Lead the way," Nelly said, all of a sudden beside them with his briefcase in tow.

Dan looked at first Laurie, then Walter. Laurie shrugged and looked at Walter, who nodded. Why was it that Laurie seemed to want to check with him about every single detail? Did he really exert that much force on the relationship that she was afraid to make any sort of decision without his consent? Walter felt bad.

The restaurant really was nice -- apparently Dan had gone there by himself for breakfast -- the interior was bright and cheerful, and the food wasn't too rich or too overwhelming. Conversation topics ranged from crime fighting stories to encounters with the rich and famous. On second thought, all topics revolved around crime fighting in one way or another. Half-listening, Walter tried to figure out the best way to ease them to talk about Agent Orange, until he decided finally that the direct approach was best.

"What do you know about Hooded Justice II?" Walter asked Leland, during a pause.

"Hooded Justice II?" Leland repeated. "Well, can't say I know much about him. He works in Northern California, so I haven't met him personally."

"Do you know if he's going to be at the conference?" Laurie asked.

"Most definitely. I did get his RSVP."

Walter had to stop himself from asking if it came with a smile attached. He stroked his chin thoughtfully and looked at Laurie. God, she was beautiful. No, wait, he was supposed to be thinking about the case. Yes, Agent Orange. He looked up.

"Have you heard anything suspicious about Hooded Justice II?" Walter asked.

Leland paused for a moment, a frown lining his brow.

"Well, not really, but you know, the strange thing is, a member of the Napa County sheriff's department came asking about him."

"Really?" Walter leaned in.

"Yeah. A Detective Narlow, I believe. He gave me his number, in case I heard anything on Hooded Justice II. I guess they're mighty suspicious of him up there. Actually, must be pretty damn suspicious to make him drive all the way down here to ask me in person."

"How did he know you were a crime fighter?" Laurie asked.

"They got my information from the Orange County police department," said Leland.

"You work with the police?" Dan asked, looking up.

"Of course," laughed Leland. "Don't you guys?"

Dan, Walter, and Laurie looked at each other. Nelly just nodded and seemed interested.

"Yes, can you believe it? I meant to tell you," Nelly said. "They work quite closely with the police here."

"That's pretty amazing," said Dan. "Can you imagine that ever happening in New York?"

Walter couldn't, no matter how much he tried. He looked at Leland again.

"Could I possibly get the detective's contact information?" he asked.

"Sure," said Leland. "I have it back at home, but I'll call the front desk for you or Nelly and pass on the number."

"Thank you."

Walter sat back, feeling relieved. It was going to be a strange experience talking to this detective, but he knew that if anyone had any news to tell him about Agent Orange's exploits in California, it would be this man. Besides, maybe Walter could prove to him that Hooded Justice II was in fact Agent Orange, and they could finally arrest him for the numerous murders he had committed back in New York as well as here in California.

Walter turned and smiled at Laurie, who took his hand under the table. After dinner, Walter and Laurie set out together, enjoying the evening breeze and each other's company.

"So, I guess we have some time to ourselves while we wait for Leland to get back to us," Laurie told Walter.

"Yes," he said, admiring the way the setting sun made her hair light up as if it were on fire.

"I want a swimsuit," she said, pouting a little. "You know, to go to the beach."

"Oh, you and your beach," said Walter, but he said it in an affectionate tone.

"I've never been, Walter, I really want to go."

"I haven't been either."

"Then more of a reason for us to go!"

"Maybe."

"Maybe we're going to look at swimsuits? Or maybe we're going to the beach?"

"Maybe the beach."

"Okay," said Laurie, smiling. "To the swimsuits we go, then."

Walter started to protest, but Laurie kissed him.

"Shh," she said. "You can pick them out, and I can try them on. That way, I won't pick something inappropriate."

Walter liked this idea, so he went with Laurie without complaint. He had to admit many of the outfits she tried on gave him ideas, but not the good kind. No, these were the ideas that made him want to punch anybody who would dare to look at her in this attire.

Laurie finally settled on a yellow swimsuit that looked more like a very short dress. Too short, but when Walter pointed it out, she insisted that everyone was wearing them like this.

"In fact," she said, "Be glad I'm not wearing a bikini."

Walter almost had a seizure at the idea. Then he almost had another one when Laurie tried to convince him to get his own swimwear.

"No thank you," he told her. "I will show up dressed respectably if you want me there."

Laurie giggled.

"It's not like _I'm_ going to the beach dressed as my mother, Walter," she said.

Walter shrugged, but that had been the end of that. They made their way back to the hotel and into the suite. They peered into Dan and Walter's room and found Dan reading in bed.

"Oh hey," he said, adjusting his glasses.

"Where's Nelly?" Laurie asked.

"Still out. They were in the lobby talking about the old days when I came up."

"All right," Laurie said, nodding to him, then taking Walter's hand and pulling him towards her room with a look.

"Oh no," said Walter, "Not with Dan in the other room."

"Come on," said Laurie, "We'll be quiet."

Walter pretended he was thinking about it, but his mind was already made up.

"Fine," he said, and they ran into her room. This time around, however, they were more careful and used protection. Eventually, they moved out into the living room and sat on the couch holding each other.

Laurie turned on the television and Walter tried to watch, but he found himself worrying instead. This time, however, it wasn't entirely about Agent Orange.

-----

To be continued...


	57. Chapter 57

Author's Note:

I'm so sorry that I only uploaded one chapter today. I had actually just gotten finished typing up chapter 58, feeling pleased with myself, no less. However, just as I hit save, my stupid Windows Vista (burn in HELL Vista) shut down. When I rebooted, my file came up corrupt. I spent an hour and a half trying various recovery programs, but nothing is working. I did a bit of a turn on my computer -- it was sort of like the scene where Ozymandias throws the Comedian around the room in the Watchmen film. Now, think of me as Ozymandias and my computer as the Comedian (not the other way around, though it certainly feels that way) and you will see what happened afterwards. All right, it wasn't THAT bad, but it was PRETTY BAD. My rage is insurmountable and suffice to say, I didn't mean to leave it at a cliff-hanger ending as this chapter turned out to be. Walter had some crazy raving outbursts in the next chapter (the LOST chapter. Argh!), but I really can't say if I will be able to rewrite it in its entirety. I shall try, but it's going to have to be at a later date as currently I am too angry to think straight let alone type this.

All right, enjoy, and sorry again. Chapter 58 should be up tomorrow, but I'm going to angst to you right now by telling you it will probably not be the same.

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Ch. 57

Laurie hummed to herself in the bathroom early morning. She had decided to do something new to her hair, and it was taking longer than she had expected. She didn't care. After she finally got her hair the way she wanted it to look, she smiled at herself and practically danced out the door. Nelly was tying his shoes and he looked up at her as she grinned and hugged him.

"Good morning, Uncle Nelly," Laurie almost sang out.

"Good morning, Laurie," he said, patting her back and beaming at her. "Having a good day?"

"Oh yes, marvelous," said Laurie, as she winked and slipped out the door.

Laurie stepped into the living area and was delighted to find Walter there. Walter was standing near the desk, on the phone. Dan was nearby sitting in an armchair, too busy reading to even notice that Laurie had come in. Walter's brow was knitted in concentration, but he nodded at Laurie and managed a smile for her when he saw her. Laurie sat on the couch and waited for Walter to finish his conversation as she curiously peered at Dan's book. It seemed to be a field guide to native birds of California.

Walter hung up the phone after a few muttered words; sighing, he approached Laurie, leaning down to kiss her politely. It was curt, but still a big leap considering Dan was right there. Freak incident of yesterday's indiscretions in front of Dan notwithstanding, of course. Laurie smiled up at him.

"Was that the detective?" she asked Walter, as he sat down next to her.

"Yes," he said, frowning. "He would like to meet me in person."

"When?"

"Today."

"But?" Laurie stroked his arm.

"I need to drive there. Well, actually, to Fresno. He wants to meet me halfway."

"Oh, right," said Laurie. "What's the matter? I'm sure Nelly wouldn't mind lending us his car."

"Yes, well," Walter laughed, "I don't have a license."

"Oh," Laurie said, putting a hand to her mouth.

"I don't mind driving down the street or a few blocks," Walter shrugged, "Or driving at night in an open country road. But I'm not driving through the city."

Laurie sighed.

"Well, I don't have a license either, so I'm pretty useless in this case," she told him.

"Two hundred fifty species," Dan was saying to himself. Laurie's eyes widened with realization and she looked at Walter, who seemed to have had the same thought as her. They simultaneously turned to look at Dan, who obliviously continued to pore through his book.

"Dan," Laurie exclaimed.

Dan's head shot up and he looked guilty.

"Huh? What?" he asked. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," said Laurie, getting up to approach him. "Could you do us a big favor?"

"Besides leave?"

"No, Dan," Laurie laughed. "Would you mind driving us to Fresno? I mean--"

"Would I?" said Dan, leaping up. "I'd love to!"

Dan looked so excited that Laurie couldn't help but hug him.

"Great," said Walter, and he actually seemed pretty happy.

They had a quick breakfast and went on their way after informing Nelly of their plans. It only took three hours for them to drive up North to the halfway point between their and Detective Narlow's locations. Laurie followed Walter into a small cafe while Dan waited outside. There were not very many people in the cramped area, but Laurie couldn't figure out which one could be the detective. A man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties waved them over. He had brown hair and a mustache on a friendly face. He stood up and held out his hand.

"You must be Walter," he said, then nodded to Laurie. "And Laurie."

"Yes," said Laurie, glancing at Walter for a moment. "Detective Narlow?"

"Yes indeed," he said. "Please, sit down."

They did as prompted, and Detective Narlow resumed sitting as well.

"I'm sorry that Deputy Collins was unable to join us," he told them. "He's also been on the case, but he's busy today, I'm afraid. I might know more about the case than him by now, though. So here I am."

"I would like to know any information you might have on Hooded Justice II," said Walter.

"Yes, of course," said Detective Narlow. He reached under the table and pulled out a file.

Laurie listened as the detective went over the information from each crime scene with them.

"I'm surprised that you came to me about it," said Narlow, "Considering you are from New York -- so what was it that you said you had to tell me?"

"The Agent Orange murders," said Walter, as he pulled out his own files.

Walter explained over his notes, and the detective seemed to get eager by the minute.

"This is wonderful, absolutely wonderful," he said. "Some of these crime scenes even match in detail. Are you sure they are the same person, though? And not some copycat killer?"

"I'm sure," said Walter grimly, as he pulled out the postcards and letters Agent Orange had sent to him from California.

"Remarkable," said Detective Narlow. "And you know what this man looks like, correct?"

"Yes, here is the newspaper article from when they let him leave the police station," said Walter, through gritted teeth, "Due to lack of evidence, they said."

"Well, what you have here, coupled with what I've got, is plenty," said Narlow. "The only problem now is figuring out where he's going to be next."

Laurie and Walter looked at each other.

"Well," said Walter, "If he keeps his word, he's going to be at an upcoming crime fighter conference."

"Leland told me about that," Narlow nodded. "This Friday, correct?"

"Yes."

"I'll set something up with my department," said the detective, his eyes twinkling. "We'll have him cornered and taken into custody. I'm fairly certain that we can get information out of him."

"And I will make sure he doesn't leave the building so that you have this chance."

"Wonderful. Thank you very much," Narlow smiled.

Detective Narlow suggested lunch, but Walter declined. He explained how Dan was waiting for them and that they should be on their way. They bid each other farewell and left the cafe. Laurie noticed that Walter had a grim expression on his face as they left the building.

"What's wrong, Walter?" she asked him. "I would have thought you'd be happy at the prospect of Agent Orange's capture."

"I am, in theory," he said, "But there are so many things that could go wrong. He might not show up, for example. And even if they do catch him, who's to say they won't just set him free again?"

"True," Laurie sighed. "But our police department is notorious for being lax on criminals. From what I heard of this place, they are of the opposite extreme here."

"I suppose so."

"Look, Walter -- have a little faith that things will work out," said Laurie. "Even if they don't catch him now, they know how he looks. He's not going to be able to hide in anonymity anymore."

Walter smiled.

"You're right," he said. His eyes were warm again as he gazed at her. He opened the car door for her and climbed in afterwards.

"Everything set?" asked Dan.

"Yeah," said Laurie. "Why don't we stop for some lunch before we head back?"

"Sounds good to me."

After lunch they returned to Huntington Beach with quite a few hours left in the day.

"So, what about the beach?" Laurie asked Walter.

Walter sighed, but he complied with her request. An hour later, they were on the beach, stretched out side by side. Laurie was on her stomach, and Walter was on his back next to her, looking thoughtful.

"Hey, you," said Laurie, nudging him a little. "Are you still worried about Agent Orange?"

"Maybe," he said.

And that had been that.

At the end of the day, they went to the hotel and found out that even with sufficient amounts of sun lotion and after just a few hours on the beach, they had managed to miss a spot on Walter's eyelids. Laurie suggested sunglasses for the next day. In the morning they set out for the beach once more, right after breakfast. Soon they were on the sand again, lying as they had been the day before.

"It's going to be a hot day," Laurie told Walter. "It's already pretty warm right now."

"Mm-hm."

"Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"You're thinking about Agent Orange, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Walter," Laurie rolled over to look at him. "We'll catch him -- don't worry. Can't you enjoy this quiet time?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I hate the beach."

"Why?"

"It's a waste of time."

Laurie sighed.

"It's not that bad," she said.

"It's disgusting. Full of sand and people with excuses to show off bodies that should be hidden indefinitely."

"Well, fine. _I_ like the beach."

"There's no accounting for taste, then."

Walter turned away and Laurie made an exasperated sound, frustrated with him. She saw his shoulders shake and realized he was laughing.

"You," said Laurie, chuckling and peering over his shoulder to confirm that he was indeed laughing -- he was. "You just have so much fun when there's conflict, don't you?"

"Not necessarily. I generally like conflict to be completely resolved."

"So you're saying you're never happy?"

"Never, Laurie."

Laurie felt incredibly sad. She looked away. Walter jabbed at her arm.

"I'm just kidding," he laughed.

Laurie turned to look at Walter, who was giving her that bright-eyed look again. She kissed him. Things were starting to get a little interesting when a shadow fell over them and Laurie had to scramble up in her surprise. Dan was staring down at them apologetically. He was out of breath, and his brow was heavy with sweat.

"What's going on?" Walter asked, sitting up quickly. "Is there trouble?"

"Well, it's the craziest thing," said Dan. "Two crazy things, actually."

"What is it?" asked Laurie. She stood up and had to squint at Dan in the light.

"Well, first of all, your dad's here, Laurie," Dan said, and his eyes went a little wide. "Uh, and...another thing."

"Wait, what?" Laurie asked. "My dad? As in -- _my_ dad? My father? My actual, real father? Not Laurence or something?"

"Yes, the Comedian is here, straight from 'Nam," said Dan, his hands shaking with emphasis. "He just dropped in out of nowhere like some kind of...of...tornado. I nearly wet myself when it happened -- you wouldn't believe it!"

"Oh my god," said Laurie, laughing despite Dan's description and quickly packing up her beach supplies.

"What's the other thing?" Walter asked, shrewd as ever. He seemed to have taken the news about Blake in stride, though Laurie's heart was pounding with excitement.

"Well, I'm not sure if I should tell you really, but you're bound to find out," said Dan, looking nervous.

"What is it?" Walter stepped closer to Dan and narrowed his eyes. Laurie joined Walter's side, with a cooler in one hand and a bag in the other.

"Uh," said Dan, sweating a little more. "Well, it's about Agent Orange."

"_What about Agent Orange_?" Walter asked testily. "Dan, tell me now."

"He's..." Dan sighed deeply. "He's back in New York."

Dan closed his eyes and seemed to brace himself. Walter gave Laurie a sharp look, glanced down at what she was holding, snatched them away from her and started marching back towards the hotel. Laurie stared at Dan for a few moments in shock before she started jogging after Walter. She could hear Dan panting as he chased after them.

-----

To be continued...


	58. Chapter 58

Author's Note:

Man, my laptop was giving me such a hard time. I rewrote this chapter again, and lost half of it when my laptop froze. I stuck through it though, and this is technically the fourth rewrite, but I finally have SOME kind of chapter. Hahaha! I'm still not 100% happy with it -- in my mind that first chapter will always be the best -- but here it is, finally. Sorry it's just another single chapter. It was pretty hard trying to replicate what I had originally written with this and I went into emo mode a lot through the day over the lost chapter (which didn't help). Enjoy!

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Ch. 58

Walter was charging up the steps to the hotel when he abruptly stopped and turned. Laurie had been right behind him so she had to jump aside to avoid hitting him. Dan nearly toppled backwards as he tried to stop abruptly behind Laurie.

"Where did you hear about Agent Orange?" Walter asked Dan with some degree of suspicion.

"From Hollis actually," said Dan, breathing heavily. "He asked me to tell you. Somehow he knew you were working on the case."

Walter nodded, then swiftly turned back and ran the rest of the way to the suite. He tossed the cooler and bag he was holding aside as if they were on fire. It took him a moment to realize the room looked like it had been ransacked. Nelly stood in the living room, obviously in the middle of attempting to clean up the mess. He gaped as Walter, Dan, and Laurie burst in.

"There you are," said Nelly to Dan before he turned to the others and gestured towards Dan, "He went streaking out of here, raving about having to find you two. What happened here?"

"I told you," said Dan, sounding exasperated, "The Comedian came in here."

"Well, I wasn't able to get this straight before you took off," Nelly scratched his head. "So he just ran in and messed up the place? Is that what happened?"

"_No_," Dan held up his hands for emphasis, "He _appeared_. That's just it. One moment he wasn't here, next moment he was. Everything was strewn about; he started swearing about something, then he walked out."

"Now -- that just sounds too fantastical to be true," Nelly said.

"It is true -- why would I make up something like that?" Dan exclaimed.

"It sounds like a dream."

"It's not -- ask him yourself! He mentioned making some phone calls and getting a room, so I'm sure he's somewhere in the building still."

Walter turned away, no longer interested in the conversation. He thought about Agent Orange, reflecting on his current situation. He wanted to feel angry, but he wasn't necessarily too peeved about this new turn of events. In fact, if he were to decide on an emotion, he would have settled on one of elation. He was nearly giddy, in fact, enough to laugh out loud, so he did. He paced the room and laughed to himself, looked out the window and laughed again. He turned to look at Laurie, who was watching Dan and Nelly argue. She glanced at Walter, then approached him with a worried expression on her face.

"Are you all right, Walter?" she asked him before he was upon her, kissing her lips. She seemed startled, and she held onto his arms to look at him. "Walter?"

"Oh, wonderful, thank you," said Walter, with some degree of sarcasm. "Not in New York."

Laurie lowered her eyes and said nothing.

"And the cycle continues on," said Walter, grinning at her and feeling as if he was going to burst at the seams. "Next thing you know, he'll be in Omaha, or Des Moines, or France. Or outer space. How willing am I to go after him? How far am I going to reach out to catch him?"

"Well, I..." Laurie started to say, but Walter waved her words away.

"It's all just a joke to him, isn't it? You're not supposed to take a joke seriously. I know -- it's a very _bad_ joke, but I should have known, should have guessed from the beginning. Why else would he idolize your father? It's only ironic that the Comedian appeared in California just as Agent Orange showed up in New York. Looks like Agent Orange is never going to meet his inspiration." Walter realized he must be raving by now, but he couldn't stop himself. "I'm a prop in his stand-up routine, and his punchline is the age old question: Who _is_ more foolish, the fool or the fool that follows him? Joke's on me, I'm left holding the bag and it's full of sh--"

"Walter!" Laurie took Walter's shoulders and shook him a little. This only made him laugh harder.

"So sick of it," he managed to say, "I hate him. I wish he were dead."

Laurie threw her arms around him. Walter buried his face in her shoulder and stayed there for a long while, breathing in her scent and trying to calm himself in her embrace. Humor of the moment gone and dead now, it was naturally replaced by seething anger. Walter hated Agent Orange. He hated how he got away with murder. He hated the complacency of the police force, and how they let him off with a flick on the wrist when Walter had captured him, fair and square. He hated Ozymandias for giving up on the case, and he hated his mother especially. Why the hell was he thinking about his mother now? Walter tried not to clench his hands too forcefully, as they were still resting against the small of Laurie's back. He could only imagine Detective Narlow's face when he told him Agent Orange was in New York now. Cowardly bastard -- Agent Orange, that is, not Narlow. If Agent Orange could face Walter like a man, this wouldn't be happening. Walter wished the recreant would call him at least. He would certainly give him an earful. If the man had any decent set of emotions on him he would be ashamed; Walter was certain he must be capable of feeling _that_ at least.

Walter waited for that mocking voice to appear in his head again, the one that would make Walter fall into despair, one that would make him lose control of his anger and act out. Nothing. No voice interrupted his own dark thoughts tonight.

"Laurie," said Walter, in an almost pleading voice. He was frightened of his decision. Maybe he had finally lost it.

"Walter?"

"I don't want to go after Agent Orange," Walter admitted.

"You mean at all?"

"No, I mean right now," he said. "I want to follow him at my own pace. Is that bad?"

Laurie paused for a moment.

"I don't think so," she said. "After all, doesn't Agent Orange want you to chase him?"

"Yes," Walter nodded. "And I can't stand things being on his terms."

"What do you want to do then? Wait it out? Wait for him here? Go to the conference? Get more information?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"Go to the beach."

Laurie laughed. Walter smiled politely.

"Let's not make any hasty decisions," he said, letting out a breath as if he had been holding it this entire time. Maybe he had. "Let's go to bed -- sleep on it."

"Yes," said Laurie, "Too bad we're in separate rooms."

"Oh, damn."

Laurie gave him a look that told him that she still remembered that it was _he_ that had insisted on this arrangement. Walter frowned and regretted his decision. It wasn't as if this had prevented them from getting into great amounts of trouble, in the end. Well, the degree of trouble depended on the outcome, Walter supposed. He looked at Laurie's stomach for a moment and let out a frustrated sound. He didn't need any of this. Suddenly the beach really didn't seem like such a bad idea after all. Walter closed his eyes and laughed again, then opened them to realize that Laurie was studying him with concern. Walter tried to smile at her in an reassuring manner.

"Your father?" he asked her.

Laurie put a hand to her mouth.

"Oh," she said, looking surprised. "I forgot..."

"I hope he doesn't hear that," said Walter, taking her hand and grasping for any sort of distraction. "Let's look for him."

Walter and Laurie went downstairs to the lobby, where Laurie asked the concierge if a Edward Blake had checked in. The concierge looked a little nervous, but he informed them that he had in fact gotten a room at the hotel, and he was also in the hotel restaurant at this very moment. Laurie gave Walter an excited look and practically ran to the restaurant. Blake was easy to spot, even though traffic was heavy at this hour. Blake was facing away from the entrance, so Walter only had a view of his back. His table was empty, and he appeared to be reading the newspaper. Figured.

"Dad," said Laurie.

Blake turned immediately, smile lighting up his features. He stood up and held out his arms as Laurie ran into them. Walter followed her and hovered as Laurie hugged her father. Blake gave her a squeeze and when he let go, he surprisingly gave Walter a hug too.

"Come here," said Blake, grabbing them by their shoulders and turning them this way and that. "Let me see you. Ah, you look good. Been out in the sun, have you?"

"You too," said Walter, dryly. Blake laughed.

"You kidding me? It's boiling over there," he said. He gestured towards the chairs at his table as he sat down. "You wouldn't believe how much I'm willing to eat right now. The food there blows."

"Dad, how did you get here?" Laurie asked, as she sat down and moved to the far end by the wall so that Walter could join her.

"Long story really," said Blake, scratching his chin. "But to make it short, I called your mother the other day -- called home first actually and didn't get an answer so I thought maybe you'd gone there. Boy, did I get an earful."

"Oh," Laurie winced, "Didn't you get my letter?"

"Yeah, I'm getting to that," Blake waved his hand at her. "So she tells me about California and where you were staying, and all this rotten business about Walter so I told her to stuff it. Today I got your letter, and I was reading it on my spare time. Blue Dick was in there with me -- did you know he can be in several places at once? -- I told him, 'Wish I could be there with her; too bad you can't just send me there with your powers.' Wouldn't you believe it, the fucker teleports me here that instant! One moment I'm in 'Nam sweating my pants off, and the next thing I know, I'm standing in some living area that's been trashed, feeling like something's hit me in the guts and Dan Dreiberg sitting on the couch looking like he'd just walked in on his parents getting at it."

"What was she saying about me?" Walter asked.

"Eh? Who? Sally?"

"Yes."

Blake laughed.

"Priorities, eh?" he said, winking. A waitress arrived with several plates piled high with food. At first Walter thought she was going to set down one for Blake and move on to another table with the rest, but it soon became apparent that they were all meant for him.

Laurie gaped at her father as he started to devour the contents on the plate closest to him as if he had been starving for days.

"Haven't you been eating well?" Laurie asked.

"Sally?" Walter prodded Blake.

"Woah-- woah," said Blake, holding up his hands. "Woah. One at a time. Okay, okay..."

Blake finished chewing and took a sip of water from a glass, then set it down.

"All right," said Blake. "I'm going to answer one question each; then I'm going to eat and you're going to have to do my talking for me until I'm finished."

"Rotten business about Walter," said Walter.

"Oh, yeah, I dunno," Blake shook his head. "I think she's losing it -- most of it didn't make any sense. Something about accountants and sexual deviants and Jehovah's Witnesses."

"What?" Walter was bewildered.

"Oh, those were all the things she was guessing you were. That, and she was convinced that you were going to get Laurie pregnant and leave her in the street to prostitute herself."

Walter felt the blood drain away from his face as a cold chill of anger crept up from the pit of his stomach towards his throat until it left his head feeling numb. Blake patted his arm.

"Hold on there," said Blake. "I told you she wasn't making sense. Sheesh, why did I even tell you that shit?"

Walter looked at Laurie as if she could explain her mother away, somehow. Walter did not have words. Laurie gave Walter a sympathetic look as Blake used the opportunity to continue eating.

"I would never--" Walter started, but Laurie took his hand.

"I know, I know," Laurie said, giving him a pained smile. "I'm sorry my mother has to say things like that, Walter."

"She is disgusting," said Walter. "She is projecting her disgusting fantasies onto me."

"I don't know about it being a fantasy," said Blake, laughing a little. "But disgusting may be the word for it, sure."

Laurie gave her father a strange look, but Blake was not meeting her eye. He continued to eat, setting one plate aside and starting on the next.

"Dad," said Laurie, after a moment. Blake looked up. "You haven't been starving yourself, have you?"

"Heh, no," said Blake, winking. "But it's not like we've been gourmet dining out there."

"Are you home for good?" Laurie's hand was still on Walter's, and he felt it tighten.

"No," Blake sighed. "I wish, but no. I had to call them to either get Blue Guy to bring me back, or arrange for an alternate mode of transportation. I'm going to eat and sleep my fill while I'm here though. I'm sure Manhattan's out there able to hear me -- I bet he can make himself invisible or some shit like that, maybe even spying on us this very moment, who knows -- he just doesn't want to send me back right now, I guess."

"Maybe he wants you out of Vietnam for good," Walter joked.

Blake laughed.

"Hey, I've been behaving myself," said Blake. "I feel useless over there, though. I'm sure all the GI's do, too. We sort of wave our hands about with little effect while Manhattan does everything."

Walter smiled a little at the mental picture Blake had painted for him. He really wished that Blake's stay in Vietnam was over.

"So when's this crime fighter conference, anyhow?" Blake asked.

"This friday," said Laurie.

"Speak in terms I can understand," said Blake, grinning, "I'm all messed up when it comes to time right now."

"Just a few more days, Dad."

"Ah, well. I might be able to stay here that long, but who knows when they'll get back to me. Might even be tomorrow for all I know."

Laurie nodded. She looked sad all of a sudden. Walter looked mournfully at her, then at Blake. Blake raised his eyebrow.

"What's the matter with the pair of you?" asked Blake with a bewildered expression on his face, "You look like you went to fifty funerals since I last saw you."

"Fifty funerals would be better than this," Walter sighed.

"Ah," nodded Blake. "You've been to a hundred then."

Walter wanted to tell Blake all about Agent Orange -- their trip to California just to capture him, and his sudden arrival in New York. Walter fumbled with his own thoughts, wondering if Blake would think he was stupid for some reason or another. He finally gave up and had faith that Blake would be much more understanding than he appeared with his devil-may-care front. Walter told Blake about his run-in with Agent Orange, his failed attempt at detaining him in New York, Agent Orange's disappearance and his Hooded Justice II connection. He also mentioned Detective Narlow, and being so close to finally getting a chance of putting the man behind bars. He finished with the latest news, of Agent Orange's sudden return to New York. Blake listened without interrupting, and judging by his facial expression, Walter would have guessed he wasn't listening; however, his eyes seemed to give away great amounts of feeling Walter hadn't noticed before. Judging by how Blake's eyes shone with a grim certainty that increased with each detail from Walter, he was sure he had heard every word.

"Hm," said Blake, sitting back after Walter had finished. "I'm going to guess at how you're feeling about this whole business, but I'm going to ask you to tell me instead -- what are your plans now that Agent Orange has once more foiled the ones you had?"

Walter sighed.

"I don't know anymore," said Walter. "Agent Orange is so erratic. No wonder Ozymandias couldn't find a pattern. Or maybe he did and didn't want to tell me because it was too insane. My main concern is wasting the effort of chasing him down only to have him run someplace else."

"Ah, yes," said Blake. "You also run the risk of wasting the remains of your sanity if you get too mixed up in this mess."

"I suppose so."

"Do you know the details of his reappearance in New York?" Blake asked, tapping his chin. "Was he using fireworks to make smiley faces or something? How did they know it was him?"

"I don't know," Walter shrugged. "Dan told me, and he said he heard it from Hollis. Hollis was there when I first turned Agent Orange in, so I would imagine he is more informed than the general public about any signs that could give him away."

"Yeah," Blake shrugged too. "Well, I dunno. It just seems a bit _too_ weird. Who goes streaking across the country like that, twice in a row? I mean, it sounds like he has some kind of man-crush on you. You would think he'd fall all over himself to get face to face with you again."

"He seems more interested in you," Walter pointed out. "I don't see him going to Vietnam."

"Oh, but you're wrong there," said Blake, laughing a little. "Well, I mean, the name Agent Orange, anyway. You hear it a lot over there. I know the guy was named after the crap but whenever I hear about it, I think of him first. Sick, I know. Bastard sure has made a name for himself."

Walter nodded. His first reaction was to excuse himself and find an empty room to sit alone as he went over all information on Agent Orange he could find. Laurie would call that brooding. He looked guiltily at Laurie and nudged her gently. Laurie smiled at him. Blake shoved his last plate aside and sat back.

"Ah yes," said Blake, patting his stomach. "Ready to go to 'Nam and finish the war if you ask me."

Blake smiled at them, and his eyes flickered back and forth between Walter and Laurie. He studied them intently for a moment, brow knit in concentration until he seemed to find what he was looking for and his face relaxed again.

"Whatever course you may take kid," said Blake, "Just tread carefully. I'm sure that's all you need for me to say on that."

Walter nodded.

"If it were up to me," added Blake, "I would give him a solid beating."

"He would like that too much," Walter said bitterly.

"Would have gotten along splendidly with Hooded Justice, then," laughed Blake.

-----

To be continued...


	59. Chapter 59

Author's Note:

I'm sorry there was a delay -- my computer finally gave its last shuddering breath before it relinquished its mechanized life force and went on its journey to silicone heaven. I ended up going into the office to use my work computer to type these up. I'm going to have to do this until I can find an alternative, so updates may be scarce; but believe you me, I'm working the best I can under the circumstances. Next update will probably be Tuesday. Enjoy!

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Ch. 59

The days flew by and come Friday, the day of the conference, nothing truly noteworthy had transpired. It really had become a vacation -- one where the lazy days blurred past in time spent on the beach or socializing with friends.

"Guess what day it is today?" Nelly sang out that morning as he walked in. Laurie, Dan, and Walter were in the living area, with Dan in the armchair, reading; Laurie and Walter were stretched out on the couch, Laurie with one hand on Walter's shoulder, the other on his head as she stroked his hair. Walter himself was looking through the newspaper he held out over his chest, his head in Laurie's lap.

"The day Agent Orange takes over New York?" Walter grumbled as he shook the newspaper. He had been checking up on Agent Orange's activities through the various sources from New York ever since he discovered a news stand a few blocks down the street that carried papers from all major cities across the country.

"Unlikely," said Nelly, in a good-natured tone.

"How about the day you guys leave me alone?" sniffed Dan. He had contracted food-poisoning a few days before and had been miserably sick up until the previous night. He said he was fully recovered, but he was left tired and in a bad mood that made him far from sociable.

"Well, aren't we a happy bunch right here?" Nelly laughed. "Come on -- it's the day of the conference, remember? We can't walk in and present ourselves as New York's finest fighters of crime by putting on our frown masks."

"Augh," groaned Dan, as he threw his head back and placed his book over his face. Walter gave Laurie a look as if he had just heard Nelly declare himself the Queen of England.

"I just can't wait to get this done and over with, that's all," said Walter, as he gave Laurie a knowing glance.

"If it's that important to go back to New York," Nelly began, as he crossed the room to claim the remaining armchair. He sat down with a groan before he continued, "Then we can leave tonight, right after the conference."

"Sounds good to me," said Laurie, after she waited for the other two to respond. They didn't.

"All right," said Nelly as he drummed his fingers against the armrests. "Don't forget to pack up tonight."

Nelly stood up and nodded at them before he left the room. Dan completely ignored this exchange and continued to look into his book with a scowl on his face. Laurie felt sorry for him.

"Do you want to pack now?" Laurie asked Walter, as she leaned down close to whisper to him so as not to bother Dan.

"No," he admitted. "But we should."

Walter sat up and shoved the newspaper aside. He briefly leaned his head against Laurie's shoulder. Laurie touched her cheek to his forehead and smiled. She thought he had taken this whole Agent Orange ordeal quite well. Walter had remained fairly quiet about Agent Orange's activities in New York and managed to keep his temper in check. With Dan in such a foul mood, Walter looked like an angel in comparison. Laurie put her arms around Walter's shoulders and kissed his temple in an affectionate manner. She was rewarded with a cheeky look from Walter, who stood up and crumpled up a piece of paper and tossed it at Dan as he walked by. Dan merely rolled his eyes into a glare in Walter's general direction before he resumed reading his book, forgotten paper still resting on his shoulder. Laurie took the paper away as she went to her room to pack.

Laurie pulled out her costume for inspection before she packed it up, frowning at it as she recalled the night from a couple of days before. Leland had offered them a tour of Los Angeles city, costumes required, of course. She and Rorschach and gone out, leaving behind Nelly who was technically retired and Dan who had just become sick the day before. What Laurie had expected to be a learning experience had turned out to be a more of a lesson in survival. It was, in one word, insane out there, and that was just putting it mildly. Laurie had previously wondered why the crime fighters of Los Angeles armed themselves so heavily. She quickly realized it was because practically everyone else in the city was armed like that. It had taken a full day to recover from the shock alone -- the sound of gunfire had rung heavily in Laurie's ears even after they had left the city. She had a new respect for the people who had to exist in a place like this. Despite the violence, she really admired the way the crime fighters in the city worked so closely with the police. No fewer than three instances in the full two hours they had patrolled had the cops walked right up to them and asked for assistance. Laurie wished they could have the sort of free reign they had here, back in New York.

Laurie shook herself out of her thoughts and packed her costume neatly. She did not have very many things out so she quickly finished up and went out to the living room again. Walter, apparently done before her, seemed to be making a quick sweep around the living room, ignoring Dan as much as he was ignoring him. Walter winked at Laurie and did a little dance as he made his way over to her. Laurie giggled, then covered her mouth when Dan glowered at her. Walter made an exaggerated motion of silencing himself with his finger before he put his arm around Laurie and accompanied her out the door.

"Lunch?" asked Walter, as he studied her face.

"Sounds good," said Laurie, placing her hand on his waist. "Should we get Dad?"

"Of course."

Walter and Laurie made their way down to the second floor, where Blake's room was located. Blake had finally received word from the president himself -- not a personal phone call or anything, but a telegram, still pretty exciting -- the president noted that though Blake's presence was missed by some GI's that were working closely with him, on the whole nobody really knew that he was out of the country. He surmised that Blake could gain something from attending the crime fighter conference, and told him that he would have an appropriate way out of Los Angeles at the end of the day. Blake was well suited for this decision and had spent most of the time either with Laurie or Walter, or out of the way in his room -- reading the newspaper in a similar fashion to that of Walter (although he was not looking for Agent Orange specifically), but with the television on in the background. This was how Laurie found her father when she knocked on the door and on the prompt from Blake assuring her that it was open walked in with Walter in tow.

"Hey kids," said Blake, grinning at them from over his newspaper. He set it aside and turned off the television. "Is it time to eat, or are you here to tell me I'm too old to hang out with you two?"

"No," Walter replied, with false enthusiasm, "We're here to tell you that today's the day of the conference. Isn't that exciting?"

Laurie laughed as she hugged and kissed Walter. Blake raised an eyebrow as he stood up.

"I guess Nelly's gotten himself into some kind of frenzy over it," Blake observed.

"Of course," said Walter.

Blake put his arms around both of them and ushered them downstairs, where they had a quiet lunch. Despite it being a business day, the hotel restaurant was quite empty.

"I'm sad about leaving California," admitted Laurie, towards the end of their meal.

"I thought you hated it here?" Blake asked, as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.

"Well, Los Angeles more or less, yes," Laurie clarified. "But Huntington Beach has been nothing but wonderful. And I'm sure there are other places here that are just as nice."

"Ah well," Blake shrugged. "Don't care much for the hot weather, but it sure beats being in 'Nam."

"I'm sad about that too," said Laurie, frowning. "About you going back tonight, I mean."

"Hey, I'm not going there indefinitely." Blake patted her shoulder. "I'll be back before you know it, annoying the shit out of you two like in the good old days."

"I'm sure we'll only annoy you in return," said Walter.

"Me? Never. Your mother, on the other hand, is a whole different can of beans," shrugged Blake. "You should make it a point to bug her when you get back to New York. I'm sure she'll love it."

Walter gave Blake a strange look for a moment, but turned and smiled at Laurie with a twinkle in his eye.

After lunch, Blake returned to his room while Laurie and Walter went down to the beach for one last walk.

"Are you excited about going back home again?" Laurie asked a particularly thoughtful-looking Walter.

"In a way, yes," he told her. "Not so much the car ride back, however."

"Is Dan going to be able to help Nelly drive, the way he is?"

"I'm sure he will insist on it."

Laurie nodded, then paused for a moment as they stood to watch the waves rolling across the beach.

"Do you think we'll find ourselves changed when we get back?" she asked. "Like Dan said?"

"It's only been a week and a half," Walter told her.

"But so much has happened in that time, hasn't it?"

Walter turned and gave her a small smile.

"Yes," he said.

They walked back to the hotel, hands held in a way that was so familiar now. Nelly was waiting with Dan to have dinner with them, and though Dan was still quiet, he seemed to be less moody and bit more exhausted than cranky. An hour after dinner, Nelly and Dan walked ahead with Blake, who caught up with them. Laurie and Walter followed closely behind, still holding hands. Laurie was surprised to find that she was quite nervous. She wanted to tell Walter, but he stopped walking just as she made her mind to talk to him. Laurie gave him a bewildered look, but Walter excused himself and assured her that it would be brief and to save him a seat. Then it was a quick kiss from him before he was off in the direction of the hotel with Laurie staring after him.

"I'm getting something," he told her as he glanced back. Laurie frowned and took a peek at Nelly and Blake, who seemed to be having an argument. Dan watched them with a sullen expression his face. Laurie tried to listen to what they were discussing, but suddenly she felt uneasy again. She couldn't figure out why she was feeling this way -- she had met most of the crime fighters, after all -- the Los Angeles based ones anyway. After a quick run through her mind she realized that she was afraid that they might make her speak in front of everyone, and she didn't really feel prepared. Maybe she would sit next to Dan and he could speak for all of them. Given his mood, however, who was to say that he would want to talk tonight? And Walter certainly wasn't the sort to make speeches. Maybe Nelly had one. Why was Laurie so upset about this, anyhow? It was just a conference, not life or death.

Trying to take herself away from her racing thoughts, Laurie went into the conference room. She was hoping that familiarizing herself with the room before the meeting began and while it was quiet would help her calm her nerves. Pushing past the heavy wooden doors, Laurie was greeted with stillness that almost instantly relieved her. There was a single person sitting at the far end of the table and Laurie glanced at them as she came in, the door closing behind her with gentle whoosh. She started to sit down, but froze as she realized she recognized the face of this individual and it wasn't anybody she had met during her stay at California. No -- she had seen this man before -- but back in New York City.

"Laurie," said Agent Orange, with an almost pleasant smile on his face.

Laurie tried to speak but was horrified to find that she had lost all ability to make any sort of sound. She tugged at her mind, trying to will herself up and away, out into the hall where she could tell the others, but she couldn't.

"Where is Rorschach?" he asked, as if Laurie had somehow finished exchanging pleasantries with him and he was merely progressing naturally to the topic at hand.

"Why aren't you in New York?" Laurie managed to ask him.

Agent Orange frowned.

"For Rorschach to catch me," Agent Orange pointed out. "You do know about our agreement, don't you?"

"But you were in New York," Laurie said. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Why would I be in New York?" he asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

"You were all over the news," said Laurie, feeling very upset and more frantic by the second. "Back in New York. Why on earth are you here, Agent Orange?"

"Ah." Agent Orange looked down, then at her, then at the far corner of the room as if someone was there watching them. Nobody was. There was a strange burst of sound coming from the other room, as if someone had ignited a small bomb. Laurie froze as she heard several muffled exclamations. Clearly Agent Orange's doing, Laurie was sure of it. He must have set off something in the other room, and they were hurt, somehow.

Laurie watched Agent Orange with an increasing dread. Her hands had gone cold, and she shivered uncontrollably as the chill went up her arms and up her spine, only to rest at the nape of her neck. Was this what he had planned all along? To lure her here to finish what he started; to finally kill her as he had meant to those many months ago?

"You know," said Agent Orange, shaking his finger at her. "Jack the Ripper -- good man, rid the streets of prostitution -- had a copycat. Perhaps I do, as well."

"There can't be two of you," Laurie whispered, but she knew he had a point. How else could he have been in two places at once?"

"They gave me the name Agent Orange," he shrugged. "But there are many other different strains of the same chemical out there, all named after an agent with a different color attached. You would think they could at least call this person something else to distinguish between the two of us. Agent Green, for instance."

Laurie made a wide-eyed sweep around the room and then straightened a little before she took a tentative step back. Agent Orange didn't move.

"Or Agent Purple," he said, in a monotone as if he were reciting passages from a particularly boring chapter of a textbook. "Even Agent Pink, if it's a female killer."

Laurie took another step back.

"You never really hear about female serial killers, do you?" asked Agent Orange, as he cocked his head to the side and regarded Laurie with a thoughtful expression, finger tapping his chin. "It's odd to think of myself as a serial killer, but that's what people say I am, so I suppose it must have some modicum of truth to it."

Laurie shook her head then nodded. She really didn't know how to respond to this man. She had taken a slow step by agonizing step backwards as he spoke, eyes never leaving his face and his cool stare. Laurie slowly reached behind her, shaking hand grasping the handle.

"What were the other colors? I don't remember," said Agent Orange, standing up. "Anyhow, where is Rorschach? I was expecting him to turn up, though if you're here I know he can't be too far off."

Agent Orange winked, and at that instant, the door burst open behind her and Laurie was so certain that he had done it. She felt her breath catch in her throat as she lept out of the way, surprised to find familiar faces. Blake entered, followed by a brilliant glowing blue man with Nelly and Dan behind them, looking startled behind belief.

"He's convinced he should be here," Blake told Laurie, shaking his head. He hadn't noticed Agent Orange so far. "Says he's still in 'Nam as we speak, so he's not really abandoning his post. Crazy talk, all of this, if you ask me."

"I am a superhero, and therefore must be in a superhero conference," Dr. Manhattan announced. Agent Orange was staring with eyes round with shock, but they weren't directed at Dr. Manhattan. They were directed at Blake.

"It's not really a 'superhero' conference, but more of a crime fighter sort of thing," said Blake, then he squinted at Laurie. "Hey kid, you all right? You look pale."

"I don't believe--" Agent Orange started to say in a voice that Laurie could barely hear, when Walter entered and Agent Orange went completely silent.

Walter's eyes first went to Laurie's face, and his brow curled in concern. Laurie quickly glanced in Agent Orange's direction before looking pointedly at Walter. Both Walter and Blake turned to regard Agent Orange and Walter flinched as if he had been slapped in the face. Blake's eyebrows were rising steadily as he looked at Laurie with what appeared like realization. Laurie knew her father must recognize him, remember him from the hospital. Blake was not a stupid man, and judging by the storm look that flew across his features, it was apparent that he had come to the right conclusion.

"You," said Walter, voice hissing from strain, even as Blake waved to Dr. Manhattan.

"Quick, get that guy," Blake said. "That guy's Agent Orange."

Dr. Manhattan paused and beheld Blake for one moment, neutral expression on his face quite unsettling given the nature of his sudden appearance and the weight of the information Blake had given him.

"Agent Orange," said Dr. Manhattan, in a mildly thoughtful tone, "Yes, I know him. He has been murdering people all across New York City."

"I know that," said Blake, waving his arm at Dr. Manhattan, even as Agent Orange approached, as if in a trance. "So do something about the guy already. Take care of him."

"Of course," said Dr. Manhattan, raising his own arm. "How inconsiderate of me."

"Comedian," said Agent Orange, "It's a privilege--"

Agent Orange's image was instantly torn apart as his own body incinerated around him, moving outwards into a brilliant splatter of flesh and gore. Laurie wanted to scream, but a thin spray of Agent Orange's remains hit her across the face. She turned away, afraid that it would get in her mouth and she would taste it there forever.

It was over in an instant. There was an unsettling smell in the air -- not that of charred flesh or blood, but a strange, hollow plastic stench akin to a hairdryer after extended periods of use. Laurie looked up with watering eyes to confirm what had just happened. The room was a mess, most of the Agent Orange stain covering the conference table, though there was still some that had managed to hit her and the others. It was only Dr. Manhattan who remained untouched, looking prim as if he had merely taken out the trash.

"What the _hell_," said Blake, the first one of them who managed to speak. "What the hell did you just do?"

"You asked me to take care of him," said Dr. Manhattan, blinking in Blake's direction.

"Yeah, in a normal manner," Blake shook his head as his hand found his face and came away covered in blood. "You just vaporized the fucker. What the _hell_ -- we're covered in him, you jackass."

Leland walked in before anyone else could contribute to this conversation, and he stopped in mid-stride with his foot halfway through the door.

"What on earth has happened here?" he exclaimed. Even now people crowded behind him and peered inside. Other crime fighters. Laurie felt embarrassed. She didn't know Dr. Manhattan, of course, but he was a product of _their_ city, and it somehow seemed as if they were airing their dirty laundry for all the Californians to see. Leland frowned as he stepped tentatively into the room, giving the others behind him a better view of the scene. One man took off his sunglasses to survey the mess even as a girl with short dark hair covering half her face looked out from behind his arm. A man taller than the two, tanned with a blond coif seemed more interested in Dr. Manhattan, to whom he pointed.

"I know that dude," he exclaimed. "It's Dr. Manhattan."

Dr. Manhattan managed a polite nod and a smile.

Suffice to say, the meeting was canceled. After a quick clean up, Laurie still felt shaken. It seemed Dr. Manhattan did not find the fact that they couldn't carry on with the meeting very logical, and listening to the conversation between him and Blake made Laurie feel dizzy and sick.

"You messed up the place," Blake was trying to explain to him. "There's no way there can be anything done in that room until it's been cleaned."

"But there are certainly other rooms in this building," Dr. Manhattan reasoned, "Besides, I could always take away anything from that room if you wish. What would you like for me to clean up?"

"Called Detective Narlow," Walter muttered, as he joined Laurie's side. Relieved, Laurie tore her attention away from her father and Manhattan and instead fixed her eyes on Walter. He didn't look at her, and she realized he was just as shaken as she was. She took his hand and he gave her a watery smile before he hugged her. Laurie held Walter for a long moment, shuddering a little as she tried to purge the terrible image of Agent Orange's death from her mind.

"Ah hell, whatever," Blake said loudly, as he threw up his hands. "Hey Laurie, I'm going. Manhattan, take me back to Vietnam. See you all."

Laurie didn't even have time to respond before Blake was gone. She grimaced at the spot that her father had occupied just moments before. She felt sad given that she hadn't had a chance to say goodbye, and it unsettled her to watch him disappear from the room as if he had never been there at all. She remembered with great detail the way Agent Orange exploded out from himself and felt sick. She hoped that her father hadn't suffered the same fate, somehow. No, no -- her father had faith that Dr. Manhattan could do this, and he had successfully done this before, after all.

"Wait," said Walter, as he strode forth towards Dr. Manhattan. Laurie just now noticed that Walter was carrying a small traveling bag.

Dr. Manhattan turned to coolly regard Walter. As Laurie saw this view of the indestructible man she felt unbelievably frightened of him. Here was someone who could reduce a person to nothing and continue on as if it didn't matter. Agent Orange was the same way in a sense, but he still had the vulnerabilities of being human in the end. Dr. Manhattan was utterly alien and thus truly unpredictable, and much more difficult to comprehend.

"Could you take me to New York City?" Walter asked. "I need to investigate this person everyone is calling Agent Orange. Copycat killer probably. And La--"

Laurie gasped as Walter disappeared before he could finish his sentence. For a moment she was certain that he was dead. A clear image of him being wiped out from existence rang strongly in her mind, and Laurie covered her mouth to muffle a scream. Dr. Manhattan heard her despite the loud shuffling of the papers that flew about the room, carried on an unnatural current of energy that hung in the air.

"What did you do?" Laurie whispered to him, raising her hands as if to cover her ears. She was so sure that his answer would be too terrible for her to handle.

"I sent him to New York," he told her.

Laurie stared blindly into Manhattan's face until she found herself nodding. Yes, Walter was all right. He was fine, just like her father was. Of course -- why would she think otherwise? Laurie closed her eyes for a moment to steady herself.

"C...Could you," Laurie swallowed nervously before she opened her eyes again. "Please, could you take me to Walter?"

Dr. Manhattan paused to regard her with a curious expression almost akin to sadness. For a moment Laurie was certain that he would say no, or even let her suffer a similar fate to that of Agent Orange. Why was his death so upsetting to her?

"Of course," Manhattan said in a quiet voice before he became almost too bright to look at.

Laurie felt the floor lurch out from under her. There was ground at her feet again before she could even register that it had been gone to begin with. Buildings, tall ones, all around. One moment, the conference room in Los Angeles, next, she was in New York City again before she could even let out a breath of surprise. Then the nausea overtook her.

-----

To be continued...


	60. Chapter 60

Ch. 60

Walter felt as if his stomach had been wrenched from his guts, dragged along the concrete, then unceremoniously dumped back down his throat. When all was said and done, he was happy to find that he was standing in New York -- Manhattan to be exact -- and in one piece. He barely had time to recognize this fact when Laurie appeared next to him. She lurched for a moment before she turned aside and promptly vomited.

"Uh, oh god," said Laurie as she staggered back to her feet. She turned her head in several directions before she spotted him. Walter held his arms out to her and she collapsed into them, panting heavily. "That was terrible. Walter, I'm so glad you're okay."

"Are you all right?" Walter asked.

"I think so," she said. "Just hold me, please."

Walter nodded. He ran his hand down Laurie's back in a soothing motion and her breathing calmed somewhat. He was silently glad that she had managed to get herself back with him. He had been in the middle of requesting this to Manhattan when he had interrupted him by sending him here. It really concerned Walter to think that someone so detached from humanity and so wholly unpredictable as Dr. Manhattan was working for the government. It was an unsettling thought, regardless of whether or not he was on their 'side'. Thrown into the wrong hands or even given the motivation, he could incinerate the world without a second's thought.

"W-Where are we?" Laurie asked.

"Manhattan."

"Ugh," Laurie shook her head. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No idea," Walter said, though he was smiling. It probably was.

The journey back to Blake's house was slow, but when they made it finally, Laurie held up her hands with a dismayed sound.

"I don't have my keys," she told him.

Walter nodded and rummaged through his knapsack and pulled out the keys and handed them to her. She gave him a strange look and opened the door.

"What else did you pack in there?" she asked him.

"Our costumes," he told her. "My keys. Essentials."

Laurie nodded, then closed her eyes for a moment as if she were dizzy. She stumbled into the house with Walter's help, then collapsed onto the couch.

"Never again," she told him. Walter went into the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water for her and she gratefully accepted it.

Walter regarded Laurie for a moment before he moved to the phone. He left a message for Nelly and Dan, then sat at the end of the couch next to Laurie's feet.

"How did you know to pack?" Laurie asked him. "I mean, how did you figure that Dr. Manhattan was going to be at the conference?"

"It was something your father said before, about Nixon," he said, shrugging. "How he said he would be taken out the appropriate way. What's more appropriate than to enlist Manhattan's help once more?"

"And if it hadn't turned out to be Manhattan?" Laurie asked.

"Then no real time wasted," he said. "We would have left tonight anyway."

"But it's already--" Laurie started to say, "Oh, right... the time difference."

Laurie groaned and settled back down. Half an hour later she said she felt better enough to get up again. They took turns showering, and Laurie announced that she was starving so Walter took her out to a restaurant nearby.

"Can you believe Agent Orange is dead?" Laurie had asked, during a lull in dinner. Walter winced.

"Couldn't have imagined a better ending for him," he told Laurie, quietly. She gave him a mournful look, but said nothing more on the matter. When they went to bed that night, they took advantage of the privacy given to them at long last. Walter lay awake even after Laurie had gone to sleep. He thought of the implications of Agent Orange's appearance in California, of the stories from New York that had led Walter and probably everyone else in New York to believe that he had returned. If there was some lunatic out there trying to pretend to be Agent Orange, Walter was going to catch him. Afterall, this new killer wasn't the real Agent Orange -- just an imposter, so he wouldn't be playing the same kind of game. It was just another criminal that needed to be rounded up. No obsessions, this time. The thought calmed Walter somewhat. He fell into a dreamless sleep full of the occasional voice, once even that of Mr. Petersen, but never Rorschach.

The next morning, Walter's mind was still roiling with details of the fresh case, dream voices all but forgotten. He wanted to go over the facts with Laurie, but she seemed to have different ideas.

"I need to go to work," Walter pointed out to her, though he didn't protest further for quite some time. Walter tecnically had no need to return to work, considering that he had returned home earlier than anyone had expected. However, Walter was worried about Mr. Petersen. He didn't stay in bed for very long, and soon he was giving Laurie a quick half a dozen kisses before he made his way back to his apartment. He half-expected there to be new post cards from the Agent Orange imposter, but he found everything undisturbed and left as they had been before he had gone for California.

After a quick change, Walter headed out, walking through the places that were so familiar to him and at the same time quite foreign. Blasted Dan was right -- things had changed so much in the past week and a half; Walter couldn't even begin to put his finger on why this was the case. In the short amount of time he was gone, Walter had even forgotten how long it took him to get to work. He overestimated the time and found himself a little too early. He attributed the empty shop to his punctuality and tried not to think so much of it. He used his keys to open the door and paused for a moment before he started to bring out the displays. He tried to ignore the small film of dust that had gathered on some of the furniture. Mr. Petersen was old, and he would not be able to see some details with his bad eyesight.

It wasn't until it was nearly lunch time with still no sign of Mr. Petersen, along with a repeat customer who came in exclaiming that the shop hadn't opened in days that Walter finally gave in and started to panic a little. He used the phone number Mr. Petersen had insistently given to him -- it was to Mr. Petersen's residence. Walter paced the room as much as the phone cord would allow as he listened to it ring in his ear. He was half-relieved, but at the same time much more worried when a voice he didn't recognize answered. He was glad someone had come to the phone, of course, but knowing also that it wasn't Mr. Petersen's voice, he feared the worst. The voice turned out to belong to a neighbor, who was watching the house while Mr. Petersen was away. For an instant Walter hoped it was for vacation, but wasn't surprised when he was told that the old man had been in the hospital for days.

After hanging up, Walter kept reasoning to himself that the Mr. Petersen was in the hospital so he must surely be in good hands -- he should be better in another week, no worry necessary. His heart betrayed him many hours later when he made his way to the hospital after work. His pulse was quick and strong, and it made his vision swim a little as he unconsciously gripped the dozen white lillies in his hands tighter as he made his way to the front desk. Half an hour later, Walter felt very foolish and out of place sitting in the waiting area with all five of Mr. Petersen's living relatives.

"Not conscious," Mr. Petersen's son, the only relative who bothered to identify himself, told Walter. "Been out for days; probably not going to make it."

Walter didn't like the tone of voice he used, but that was how they spoke of him, every one of them. Walter knew nothing of his employer outside of work and even he seemed more distraught than Mr. Petersen's own loved ones, who seemed ready to quit the waiting game and just go on home. It was as if they wanted the old man to die so they would stop being held up in the hospital, as if he were an obligation, a nuisance, a waste of time. The thought made Walter very sad. He waited as much as he could until visiting hours were over and long after the relatives had gone home. Mr. Petersen's son briefly spoke to Walter before he left. For an audience at a later date, he explained. 'Or whenever the man's dead. I need to speak with you about the shop.' Was what had been said, to be exact. It really made Walter's stomach turn. How had Mr. Petersen alienated himself so much -- even from the ones that had been born of him? Walter wished he could ask Mr. Petersen when he woke -- if he awoke -- and he knew for certain that he would never have the chance.

"Walter, what's wrong?" Laurie asked him as he entered Blake's home that evening. He just gave her a mournful look and shook his head.

Laurie folded her arms, but didn't enquire further. She just regarded him for a moment before she held out her arms and let him rest his head close to her heart. Feeling warm and safe and loved, he let the words slip from the confinement of his lips.

"It's Mr. Petersen," he told her. "I don't think he will live long."

He told Laurie everything -- of his cold, out-of-state relatives, of his condition, of his fate -- Walter was surprised when he concluded with concerns about his job.

"I was given the privelege of working where I did, Laurie," he told her, finally, "And soon it will be taken from me to die with a kind old man who gave me a chance."

"Well," Laurie paused, and though Walter couldn't see her face from where he was, he knew she was biting her lip. "Can't Mr. Greer take you back? I'm sure he would be happy to."

Walter thought it over for a moment, before he reluctantly nodded his head.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," he said, feeling at least a little relieved. "Yes, I suppose that could be a fall-back, worse comes to worse."

"Oh, Walter," said Laurie, with a gentle squeeze. "Worse comes to worse, you can always stay here."

"Perhaps, but I do not wish to be indebted to you for anything."

"Walter," Laurie held him at arm's length and regarded him with a stern expression. "How can you say that, given our relationship?"

"I just mean..." Walter paused. He didn't know how to say it, so he finally shook his head. "I'm sorry. Th...Thank you, of course."

Laurie smiled and kissed his forehead. Walter smiled at the gesture, but he felt uneasy inside. He wanted to explain to Laurie what it was about the arrangement that ill-suited him. The idea made him feel emasculated somehow -- he wanted to be able to provide for her and not rely on her savings to coast along in life. He knew she didn't mind, but it was something that was important to him.

It was just that it was unfair that it all had to come down to this. Not just his job, but everything. Mr. Petersen may have lived a full life -- sure, that's what they all say about those who succumb to the diseases of old age -- but when was there ever a time when it was right to die? Walter loathed having had to rely so much on the favor of a senile gentleman. He felt as if he had used the old man, somehow, though Mr. Petersen would never have suggested that was the case. Their relationship seemed so fleeting, as if there could have been so many more words exchanged that were now drowned in lost opportunities. A terrible regret filled Walter's heart, and for one agonizing moment he was so sure that Blake would die too and the idea left him devastated. Walter tightened his grasp on Laurie and let out a strangled cry into her chest. Laurie seemed bewildered as she tried to console him, but instead he let himself fall into a quiet despair. He let his mind wander into the darkness, embracing it, even as he sat with Laurie next to him, close enough to hear her steady breathing. Walter ventured into the shadows, looking for demons that he was sure to find. He would face them tonight; but still, there was no voice there to stir him deeper. Walter was frustrated -- here he had prepared himself, and after all this, he had finally opened that door to find there was nothing behind it; there had been nothing but the fear of what he would discover. In the end he came out exhausted, but accepting of his fate. Walter knew then that there was more to what had changed in California than a few surface details regarding him, Laurie, and even their relationship. It overwhelmed him to think of it all. Walter tried not to lose himself too much in searching for the true answer but instead turned to Laurie. She was well loved that night.

The next day was Sunday, so Walter had no business going to work, though his heart willed it. After much lamenting in silence, Laurie finally suggested that they go there, much to his surprise. He hadn't expressed his desire to visit the shop to her, but she seemed to know what his mind was on and he loved her all the more for it. They peeked in on the empty shop, and Walter allowed them one moment of silence as he let them in and surveyed the interior until he felt a shiver go through him and instantly he didn't want to be in there anymore -- not right now, not today. Walter took Laurie's hand and led her away from the place and into the more familiar areas that they loved. They walked through their favorite part of the park, hand in hand and enjoying the comfortable silence between them.

"I almost wish I didn't have to tell Mother we're back," Laurie told him, when they had finally settled on a park bench. "But it seems wrong to be here and not let her know -- I mean, I thought of maybe letting Dan do it once he comes back, but I figure she's bound to find out from him that we were here all along. Then she would get angry, you know?"

"Mm."

Walter could feel Laurie smiling beside him.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, in an almost teasing tone.

"I'm thinking that we should patrol tonight," said Walter. "Would you like to go?"

"Are you kidding me?" Laurie asked, her hand darting to his before she clasped it firmly. "Finally. You wouldn't believe how much I missed it. Is that strange?"

Walter smiled at her and shook his head a little. To him that wasn't strange at all; only endearing. That night when they patrolled, Walter felt free. Blake was right -- the temperature was more suitable here -- for their costumes, anyway -- and it felt good. The streets were still empty, and Rorschach knew it was because of the new Agent Orange. It seemed this killer was more erratic -- once Rorschach knew the original Agent Orange's reasoning, it was easy to see what crime he was punishing for; could see patterns in his work and why his victims ended with their fate. With New Agent Orange, Rorschach was starting to wonder if he was just killing for sport. Rorschach mulled this over in his mind as he and Nightshade spent most of their night refreshing themselves, getting familiar with their old surroundings again while actively searching for any clues on Agent Orange's imposter. They were still used to Californian time, so they spent more hours outside than was customary and came home feeling exhausted but fulfilled. Walter went to work the next morning with a clear head and a bright outlook.

Come noon, Mr. Petersen was dead. Well, Walter was informed of it around that time, at least. It was almost unbelievable -- the phone had gone off, Walter had picked it up and held it to his ear and listened as the world kept moving around him. It was Mr. Petersen's son giving him a brief description of when and how, and that was it. He had again reiterated the importance of talking to Walter at a later date, after the funeral arrangements. Walter was surprised he even got an invitation to attend judging by the son's curt tone and the way he brushed Walter off when he tried to express his condolences. Walter was left standing with the phone in one hand, trying not to take in the details of his surroundings. The shop was too unbearable to look at now. Walter wanted to leave the place, but he found himself rooted to it nevertheless. He left the shop open late into the night, hours past closing time. He allowed himself to do so after deciding this was one gesture he could give Mr. Petersen, the only way he could honor the old man's memory with what little he had. Walter tried not to look too far ahead when he closed the shop for good that night. As he hung up his tape he took one last sweep around and felt remorseful. He doubted Mr. Petersen's relatives would want to continue running this place. He knew that this was it -- this was all that remained of Mr. Petersen and it was a ghost now, soon to be just as dead as he was -- now on its last breath with only memories of what it used to contain; this was its final moment. In the dying evening light Walter saw his shadow stretch out before him, one hand outstretched as if in entreaty, beseeching him for a chance to take it all back. Walter vowed to recall this image of him, this pleading shadow aspect of him that begged to be saved. Had he been her all along? Walter nodded as if to another person. It was all right, he intoned -- they had a place to turn to, both of them. All was not lost, even if people died around them. There was still hope; they still had Laurie.

Nevertheless, Walter turned and went home with a heavy heart.

-----

To be continued...


	61. Chapter 61

Author's Note:

Well, good news -- I gave in and got a small laptop last night. It's called an Eee Netbook and it's red and black so I decided to name it Eddie (**E**dd**ee**?). It goes with my phone, which is also red and black and called Eddie. So I won't get behind, after all. Yay!

-----

Ch. 61

Laurie marveled at how fast the days went past, even when she wasn't in California. Of course, this time instead of relaxing at every turn, it was the direct opposite. The first couple of days, Walter and Laurie spent their time getting used to New York City again and doing some light patrolling at night. Dan and Nelly returned on the third day, and Laurie was the first one Dan called.

"Well, made it safe and sound," he had told her. "The meeting was weird without you guys."

"What happened?" Laurie had asked him, and felt tremendously guilty. But what was she supposed to do? She couldn't just let Walter go off by himself, especially if he wanted her with him.

"Manhattan came back," said Dan. "Anyway, how's the streets? How's Walter?"

"Good, I suppose -- just looking into this impostor Agent Orange business," Laurie told him while cringing. She wished they could give him a different name. Every time she heard the name Agent Orange, she remembered the look on his face before it was torn apart with his body. Whenever she recalled that grisly image she would grab Walter's hand and he would give her a measured look, eyes warm with compassion. But Walter hadn't been there at that moment, and she stood in the living room shivering even in the warm air.

"Ah, well," Dan sighed. "I guess I'll leave you guys to your case, then. Don't forget to call when you're done."

"You make it sound like we don't want to talk to you until we're finished with the case," Laurie laughed.

"Just don't want to bother you guys. Keep in touch, okay?"

"All right, Dan. I'll see you."

"Bye."

After that, Laurie didn't see much of Dan, even when she went out at night with Rorschach. The rest of the week was practically a blur to Laurie. What time she didn't spend worrying about the possibility of being pregnant, she spent trying to calm Walter, who was stressing over his job. He had returned to Mr. Greer's dress shop, and Mr. Greer was glad to welcome him back, but Walter was not happy at all about working there again.

"It's the women's clothing," Walter told her. "What man works with women's clothing? It's demeaning."

"I'm sure there are plenty of men out there who would love the excuse to get their hands on women and their clothing," Laurie said.

"Yes, perverts, most likely," he said, and Laurie didn't argue. Strangely enough, this was one of the sides of Walter she liked the most.

Of course, their nights weren't full of fun and games, either. Rorschach was urging them to look for the impostor Agent, and at the end of the night Laurie was left feeling exhausted. She worried about Walter, considering he had to work at his job during the day while she had the opportunity to rest if she wanted -- and even so she was tired. Laurie tried to convince Walter not to drive himself too hard, but there was something different about the New Agent Orange that made him want to work faster. The late Agent Orange had worked at a steady pace, but the new killer was doing overtime.

This murderer was prolific -- almost frenzied in his killings. Agent Orange had been precise and neat, allowing himself time to accompany each crime scene with his signature curt smile. He would also wait at least a week between jobs, giving time for the last one to settle into everyone's minds. New Agent Orange -- god, Laurie hated the name -- liked to hack and slash his way through the city, sometimes hitting several places in one night. He would usually forget to add the smile, but when he remembered, it was just an unrecognizable splatter, nearly impossible to see in the midst of the destruction he left behind.

In the week they had been there, New Agent Orange (or Agent Orange II, in Laurie's mind) had already murdered dozens of people. His victims seemed random now, and that disturbed Laurie to no end. It was bad enough when they came across a mess of dead mobsters, but it was worse on the times when they found seemingly innocent people treated in the same manner. So far Laurie had seen an old man murdered in his home, two sisters still in the grips of each other's arms as they lay dead, a nobody who lived and died in his own dress shop in Brooklyn, a family man who had been practically crucified, splayed out on the wall where he lay hanging, among others whose crimes were less apparent. Laurie didn't understand any of it. She wished she didn't have to see the things she did, but at the same time she didn't want to leave Rorschach alone to fend for himself; to witness these horrors on his own. He was so easily affected by his environment, Laurie knew. He couldn't take it without her there, she was sure of it.

Laurie was so overwhelmed by their day-to-day schedule, Mr. Petersen's funeral took her by surprise. Despite the way Walter was burning himself out at both ends between his two jobs, he had somehow managed to remember and announced it to her a week after the first Sunday they had returned to New York. Laurie was a little disappointed, considering she was looking forward to a little quiet time with Walter. She was also concerned that Walter wasn't getting enough rest, and seeing as this was his only day off, the funeral seemed like an inconvenience. Of course, she didn't know anything about Mr. Petersen, so she was able to make these detached observations. She knew very well why Walter would want more than anything to attend the funeral, so she faithfully went with him, hoping the funeral wouldn't last long.

At the funeral, Laurie felt self-conscious, glancing frequently at Walter, who kept a film grip on her hand and stared straight ahead. Laurie felt as if everyone was watching them instead of paying attention to the funeral.

"I think we're the only ones that these people don't know," she whispered to him.

"They probably want to keep it that way," he whispered back. "But this isn't for them so it doesn't matter; besides, I'm sure most of these people probably don't even know Mr. Petersen himself."

Laurie nodded, feeling a little sad. After the funeral, she and Walter stood off to the corner, quietly studying the people who were laughing and chatting with one another. They really didn't care about the old man, Laurie noticed. It made her sick. Laurie was about to suggest to Walter that they leave, when she saw a man make his way through the small crowd to get to them.

"Hey there," said the man, "Sam Petersen. You remember me, right?"

"Yes, you are Mr. Petersen's son," Walter said.

"Yeah, yeah. Look, you ready to discuss the details of the shop?" he asked, with a faint Jersey accent.

"This is the day of your father's funeral," Walter said, quietly. "Do you mind?"

"Oh, right," Sam shrugged and pulled out a card instead. "Well, gimme a call when you get the chance, all right? We need to go over some things; important things."

Laurie exchanged a frown with Walter even as Sam Petersen left.

"What do you think he was talking about?" Laurie asked him.

"I don't know," Walter said, staring at the card in his hand as if he didn't recognize what it was. His fingers started to loosen, and Laurie had to grasp at his hand to take the card away from him before he dropped it.

"Why don't you call him, Walter?" she suggested. "Here, I'll keep it. Just wait a while, then call him later in the week. It won't hurt to find out what he wants, at least."

"He probably wants to make trouble, judging by his tone," Walter said with a shrug, but he seemed relieved.

Walter and Laurie returned home, and Laurie collapsed on the couch.

"You really should rest, Walter," she told him. "I'm exhausted, so you must be ready to drop."

Walter didn't seem to be listening to her. His eyes were fixed somewhere on the floor, and from the angle that she was lying in, she couldn't tell what it was.

"What is it?" she asked him.

Walter shook his head, then bent down to pick something up. When he straightened up again, he was holding a letter. Laurie sat up quickly, eyes wide.

"Is it...?" She started to ask, even as Walter opened the letter. If Agent Orange II knew where she lived...

"Oh," Walter said, looking immediately relieved. "It's from your father."

"From my father," Laurie exclaimed. "It's Sunday. How on earth--"

Walter gave her an amused look.

"Well, if he can make Manhattan teleport him to California," he said, approaching the couch to sit next to her as he handed her the letter, "I'm sure he can arrange a little letter delivery."

"It just seems odd that someone like Dr. Manhattan would agree to something so trivial as that," Laurie frowned, then took the letter and started to read it with Walter peering over her shoulder.

"_Hey Laurie,_

_I hope this doesn't turn up somewhere inconvenient like the bathroom or someplace where you won't find it, like the cellar, but I figured it took me long enough to write this up, might as well ask Doc to send this thing to you._

_Anyway, after I came back here I was thinking what a prick I was for asking to be sent off like that when I should have stayed behind to make sure you were all right. I know Walter is looking after you and all, but I can't help but feel regret for not even saying good bye properly. I hope you'll forgive me. I certainly beat myself over it for a while._

_They're wrapping it up here, though, you know? We're driving them back real hard. There's barely any time to collect one's thoughts, nowadays. It's sleep, eat, fight, eat, fight, and back to sleep again. Guess it could be worse -- I could be dead. But I'm not, so hey, it's all good, right?_

_I hope you're doing well, Laurie. Don't let Walter get too beat up over Agent Orange, Jr. -- stay out of trouble, both of you. Remember to pester your mother. Tell her you've eloped, or something. But don't really do it because I want to be at the wedding. And don't have too many parties while I'm gone, all right?_

_--Dad"_

"Just for that, I'm throwing a party," said Walter, but he was smiling. "Let's invite people we don't know."

"Yes, and don't forget Big Figure," Laurie told him.

"And Moloch. We can let him stay overnight in your father's bed."

Laurie was starting to add something to that idea, when the phone rang. Laurie groaned and started to get up, but Walter stopped her and made his way to the phone.

"Hello," said Walter. Then his jaw tightened. "Yes. One moment, please."

Walter turned to Laurie with a distinctive look in his eye she saw only when a certain person was involved.

"My mother?" Laurie confirmed, and he nodded. Laurie stood up and made her way towards the phone, dreading the conversation that was to be had. She had been avoiding talking to her mother.

Walter shook the phone in her direction. Laurie sighed and took it, but grabbed onto Walter's arm when he tried to leave. He held her while she put the receiver to her ear.

"Hello?" Laurie asked, biting her lip.

"Laurie," said Sally, sounding surprisingly warm. "I heard you were back. When are you going to visit me?"

"Uh, soon," Laurie laughed a little. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm good. Listen, I've been thinking."

"Yes?" Laurie braced for the worst.

"Maybe if you're up for it, we could have dinner tonight."

"Dinner? Tonight?" Laurie stared at Walter, who shook his head and gave her a wide eyed look. "Err, mom, look -- Walter's busy, so..."

"Then just come alone, Laurie," said Sally in an exasperated tone. "Goodness, you really don't need to be attached to the hip every second of the day."

"But I don't get to spend time with him unless it's work," Laurie said. "This is his only day off, Mother. I can't just leave him home by himself."

"Men can take care of themselves," Sally told her. "He's going to expect you to wait on him hand and foot at all times if you do things like this."

"He is not," Laurie snapped. "That has nothing to do with it."

"All right, fine," Sally sighed. "Then I will come over tonight. I'll make a dinner and bring it, and we can eat it. How does that sound?"

"Come to our house?" Laurie asked, stunned for a moment. Walter snatched the phone out of her hand.

"Laurie is going to dinner with you, don't worry," said Walter. He paused. "Yes, I _am_ allowing her out of her shackles for an airing."

Walter paused again and nodded. Then he frowned, nodded, then looked exasperated.

"Yes, yes," he said, finally. "Yes. Good bye."

Walter hung up the phone as if it offended him to touch it. He turned and regarded Laurie for a moment before he put his arms around her again.

"You're eating dinner with her at six tonight, at that place she loves to go to, apparently," he told her.

"You know, I could come up with something and just cancel--"

"No, she's going to keep on insisting otherwise," Walter shook his head. "Or worse, just turn up uninvited at night. I'll be fine by myself for a few hours."

"Are you sure?" Laurie grinned. "You won't melt while I'm gone, will you?"

"Maybe," he pouted. "I'll claw up the furniture and go in all the corners, too."

Laurie laughed and kissed him.

"I really wish I could spend time with you instead," she told him, mournfully.

"I know," he said, with warm eyes. "But you're going to get sick of me if I'm always around."

"No, never," Laurie said to him. Walter gave her a big smile.

Dinner went pretty smoothly for Laurie, even considering the rocky beginning. After a little non-committal chat, Sally went straight to business even as they picked up their menus.

"So, are you going to marry this man?" Sally asked her.

Laurie froze, face still hidden by the menu.

"Who, Walter?" Laurie asked without moving the menu away.

"Yes, of course. Who else would I be asking about?"

"Well, you didn't use his name--"

"Don't be facetious," her mother snapped. "So are you or aren't you?"

"Yes, of course," Laurie said. She was rewarded with a deep sigh from Sally that seemed to stretch on forever.

"Well, I suppose that's your decision in the end," her mother told her a little bitterly.

"You're making it sound like I'm marrying someone who is going to use me. Or, I don't know, for money."

"_Laurie_," admonished her mother. "Well, we all know how my stance is on your...Walter."

"I never really understood why you feel the way you do towards him," Laurie sighed. "You seemed to like him at some point, even. What happened, Mom?"

"Nothing," she said, "Just that I glimpse more and more into his personality each day."

Laurie finally put down her menu, feeling too wounded to conceal herself. She gave her mother a pained look.

"I love him, you know," Laurie pointed out. "It really hurts when you say that. I don't even know why you have to be like that -- Dad isn't."

"Well, Eddie is Eddie," Sally waved at her. "But dear, there's no need to be so dramatic."

"Dramatic? I keep worrying that one day you'll say the wrong thing to him, Mother," said Laurie. "You're so awful to him."

"And he's going to have to live with it if he wants to marry you," sniffed Sally.

"Maybe not so much if this continues and we leave," Laurie said in a soft voice. She wasn't sure if her mother had heard her, but when she looked up she found that she was watching her with an indiscernible expression.

"Yes, well," said Sally, after a moment. She avoided Laurie's eyes. "Why don't we eat?"

They finished dinner without much incident, but Laurie found herself returning home feeling drained. Upon arriving, she closed the door behind her and looked up to find Walter hanging up the phone.

"Hi," said Laurie, smiling weakly at him. "Who was that?"

"Dan," he told her.

"Really?" she said, astonished. "What did he want to talk about?"

Walter said nothing, but he gave her a mysterious smile and winked at her instead.

"Fine, be that way," she told him in a good-natured tone as she sauntered up to him and threw her arms around his waist.

"So, do I want to know what happened with your mother at dinner?" Walter asked, after a kiss or two.

"No," said Laurie, "In fact, let's forget about my mother."

Walter nodded in a noncommittal manner until Laurie tugged on his hand and pushed him towards her room.

"Ah, that kind of forgetting," he joked, but he ran after her in any case.

-----

To be continued...


	62. Chapter 62

Ch. 62

Walter had to admit that he preferred staying in bed all evening over going out to search for Agent Orange II, and that was exactly what they had done. Walter couldn't help but feeling guilty, however, and he found himself staring up at the ceiling that night, unable to sleep. He wondered where in the city Agent Orange II was now; the crazy freak. The new killer made Walter almost miss the original Agent Orange. Almost.

Laurie sighed a little and stirred next to him.

"Are you still awake?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Agent Orange II?"

"Yes."

Laurie sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have insisted. I mean, maybe--"

"No," Walter put his hand over her mouth. "Don't be silly. I needed to stay in."

Laurie nodded, and he took his hand away.

"I'm just worried you'll work yourself to death," she told him.

"I know," Walter said. "But we'll find him soon and then I can focus on finding a better job, and it won't be as bad."

Laurie nodded again and rubbed his chest. Walter shivered and put his hand on hers.

"It seems ridiculous that I stay here so much," he told her. "I mean, I hardly go to my apartment now but I'm still paying rent."

"Maybe you should move here," Laurie said, eagerly.

"Well, I don't know about that," Walter laughed a little. "Your father will return at some point, and that's a bit of an awkward arrangement."

"I suppose so."

"I was thinking more along the lines of you moving in with me," Walter said, tensing for a moment to wait for her response.

"Really?"

"What you said about it being more convenient makes sense, considering now I have to stop by my apartment in the morning, but if you were there..."

"Yes."

Walter hesitated.

"So that means..." he looked at her.

"Yes, I would love to move in with you."

"Oh, good," he said, relieved.

"I'll start packing my things and we can gradually take them to your apartment."

Walter nodded and felt good about himself.

"Walter?" Laurie rolled over to look him in the eye.

"Hm?"

"What would you do if I was pregnant?"

Walter froze.

"Does that mean you are?" he asked her. "Or are you saying hypothetically?"

"I've been worrying about it all week," she told him. "I don't know yet, but so far it's just hypothetical I suppose."

"Oh."

Laurie was looking at him expectantly.

"Uh," Walter felt a little embarrassed. "I would actually like it if you were, actually."

"Really?" Laurie looked surprised.

Walter nodded and gave her a shy smile.

"It's not exactly convenient right now," Walter admitted. "I mean, considering the circumstances, and we're not even married."

"Yes."

"But I wouldn't mind," he said.

"I wouldn't either," Laurie told him, happily.

Nevertheless, Walter couldn't help but worry a little. If she was pregnant, he would have to move at a much quicker pace, and with all the things happening at once it wasn't necessarily ideal. At the same time, it was something that he strongly desired, and it wasn't even a feeling he could explain. He just knew that he wanted it, even though his logical mind told him it was an irrational desire. Walter closed his eyes for a moment to rest them, trying to think of names, and whether or not he wanted a boy or a girl. He would prefer a boy -- he wouldn't know what to do with a girl (but what if Laurie wanted one?) -- and he was certain he would name him Charles, after his father.

The next thing Walter knew, he was sitting at a picnic table on a bright summer day. It was warm -- too warm, even -- and the sky was a brilliant blue. It took Walter only a few seconds to realize it was a dream. Even though his surroundings were perfect, there was something about the air that was unsettling, and after a moment it became too warm.

Walter took a slow survey of the area and noted the sickly green of the grassy hills that stretched on beyond his field of vision. Far ahead in the distance he could see a dark mass approaching and he looked away, not really wanting to know what it was. It wasn't until he had turned that he realized that he was sitting with Mr. Petersen's relatives. Among the five known relatives were all their own friends and loved ones, foreigners that sat at a table that continued forever. Walter was pleased to spot Mr. Petersen himself nearby.

Walter tried to get Mr. Petersen's attention, but he found himself unable to raise his voice, which only came out a whisper. Sam Petersen, his employer's son, sat across from Walter, and he waved a small envelope at him, his card in the other hand. He was nodding to Walter in a mechanical fashion. It wasn't until Laurie reached out and took the envelope out of his hand that Walter noticed she had been sitting next to him.

"Maybe you should give him a call, Walter," she told him. Walter found himself unable to do much besides stare. She looked very pretty in a bright yellow sundress, and the stifling heat was making him sluggish. Laurie opened the envelope and gave Walter the contents, some papers, it seemed. Walter tried to read them but the words on the pages kept swimming away from him even as he focused on them.

Laurie nudged Walter and passed him a bowl full of food he didn't recognize. He served himself and passed the bowl to his neighbor, a man whose face he could not see. Walter tried to eat, but the food was rubbery and tasteless, like over boiled eggs and Walter spat it out. He turned to Laurie and shook his head, pushing their plates away. She nodded and stroked his hair.

"This is a dream," Walter told her. "A bad dream. We should leave."

"I'm not sure if we can," Laurie said. "That man wants to talk to you."

Walter looked up at where Sam Petersen had been sitting, assuming Laurie meant him, but everyone had disappeared apart from Walter, Laurie, and the man who was on his other side. Walter didn't want to see who was sitting next to him, but he felt compelled to do it, lest he had to sit in limbo for eternity. The man was still looking away, so Walter put a tentative hand on his shoulder.

The man turned, and of course it was Agent Orange, but his facial features were distorted as if he was made of warped plastic that had melted in the sun.

"He wants you to find him," said Agent Orange. No, this was the new killer, Walter was sure of it. Agent Orange himself was dead.

"Who are you?" Walter asked him, choking on his words until he was shocked to find that Agent Orange II had his hands about his throat. Walter struggled against it, but his grip was too strong. When Walter dug his fingers into Agent Orange II's wrists, the flesh gave way as if it were from a badly rotted corpse. The rest of his skin began to drop off the remaining parts of his body. A gruesome stench rose up to mix with the stifling hot air, and Walter gagged.

Laurie ran around Walter and started tugging at Agent Orange II's arm. It fell apart like brittle candy, bony hand loosening from Walter as its attached arm fell back to the ground to shatter into a hundred pieces. Walter scrambled to his feet and darted away from the remaining hand that groped blindly at his throat. Grotesquely contorted face made even more so by the lack of skin, Agent Orange II reached out to him with eyes that ran red with gore.

Walter put his arms protectively around Laurie and regarded the killer as he -- it -- tried to stand up from his seat, but he seemed rooted there. Walter saw movement in his peripheral vision and he turned to realize that the dark approaching mass had in fact been a wave of blood that now engulfed the table. Agent Orange opened his twisted mouth and held out his arm as if for forgiveness, but Walter just held on tightly to Laurie and watched until there was nothing left before him but the color red.

Walter blinked in the darkness and was grateful to be awake. He found that he had been clutching at Laurie in a similar manner to that of his dream, though she was still asleep. In his half-awake state, Walter felt it necessary to stir her, stroking her face until her eyes came open.

"Walter," said Laurie, sitting up to look at him. "What happened?"

"I finally know, Laurie," Walter told her.

"Know what, Walter?" Laurie asked him, hands going to his chest and looking bewildered.

"I should have known from the start," Walter muttered, then he sank back onto his pillow, feeling impossibly tired.

When Walter came to again, it was morning. He put his arm out to find an empty space where Laurie should have been. He frowned. Feeling feverish, Walter climbed out of bed and stared out the window in confusion before he wandered into the living room, relieved to find Laurie there, reading a book. She looked up when he entered, and frowned.

"Walter," she said, getting up quickly. "Go back to bed."

"But it's morning," he told her, with astonishment. "I need to go to work."

"Oh no you don't," Laurie shook her head. "Don't you remember? You woke up earlier with a fever. I told you I was going to call the shop and let them know you weren't coming in, and that's exactly what I did."

"I don't think I--"

"No, Walter. You're sick." Laurie took him firmly by the arm and led him back to bed and pushed him down until he obeyed her. "You need to rest."

"What time is it?" Walter asked her. He noticed that the room was spinning and his throat was dry.

"It's noon, Walter," Laurie said as she stroked his hair. "Don't worry. Just rest, all right?"

Walter nodded, staring at her shirt, which was yellow.

"Do you remember the picnic table, Laurie?" he asked her.

"What do you mean?" Laurie gave him a concerned look.

"With Mr. Petersen. And Agent Orange."

"No, what happened?"

"I think it was a dream," Walter admitted. He was dazed, and the room was far too hot. Laurie ran her cool fingers over his brow.

"You're burning up," she said, looking worried. "Maybe I should call a doctor."

"I'm fine," Walter told her. He tried to wave his arm at her in a dismissive gesture, but found himself unable to. Laurie frowned at him and gave him one last look before she left the room. Walter closed his eyes and turned onto his side. Maybe he could sleep a little and he would feel better. He thought Laurie came back into the room at some point later, but he wasn't certain. His head was spinning too hard for him to tell.

-----

To be continued...


	63. Chapter 63

Ch. 63

The doctor came and went, but his visit did not put Laurie's mind anywhere at ease. Walter was fine -- the doctor just recommended rest for him so Laurie knew he was okay -- but Laurie had also asked the doctor about the possibility of her being pregnant, and that was where her worries started. The doctor took Laurie's blood for tests, then asked her questions in the mildly disinterested tone that those who had been long in the medical profession were prone to use. The doctor's inquiry made Laurie stop and really think, and that was when she realized she was late. She tried not to panic when the thought first struck her, and just smiled politely at the doctor as he informed her that the results would be known to her the next day.

After the doctor left, Laurie sat down and thought wildly of her predicament, half-tempted to wake Walter but knowing very well that he needed rest. Laurie tried to eat lunch as she worried. Finally unable to take it, she decided to go to the store and take matters into her own hands. A home test was never as accurate, but it would have to do if it would give her the peace of mind.

Laurie returned early afternoon and checked on Walter, who was still asleep. Laurie took the test and paced the room afterwards as she waited for the results. She jumped when the phone rang, then quickly ran to answer it, hoping that it wouldn't be long.

Unfortunately, it was her mother.

"Hello?" Laurie asked, tensely.

"Laurie," her mother sounded cheerful. "You should come visit your mother."

"I'm a little busy," Laurie said, peering at the test. It hadn't changed color yet.

"Goodness, you can bring your Walter if it will make you come out here."

"Walter's sick -- I need to take care of him."

"I'm sure that was his idea, was it?"

"No," Laurie snapped. "It was mine, because I love him and am concerned for his well being."

"All right cupcake, suit yourself." Sally sounded utterly at ease.

Laurie scowled.

"Mom, is someone there with you?" Laurie asked, suspiciously.

Sally paused for a moment.

"Only Dan, dear."

"Why?"

"For a visit, honey -- for goodness sake."

"If he's there, why did you want me to come see you?"

"I just thought you might want to see each other, that's all, Laurie." Sally sounded astonished. "What's gotten into you? You sound so demanding."

Laurie had to keep her hand from shaking as she saw the color change on the indicator she was holding.

"You're starting to act like your boyfriend," Sally laughed. "Laurie?"

Laurie groaned to herself, not even bothering to withhold her emotion.

"Laurie, are you okay?"

"Mom," Laurie shook her head. "Oh, Mom."

"What is it? You're scaring me."

"I think," Laurie sighed and closed her eyes. "I think I might be pregnant."

Sally inhaled sharply, and Laurie could hear it over the phone.

"Hold please," said her mother. "Dan, could you excuse me for a moment? I need to talk to my daughter about some private female matters."

"Sure," Laurie could hear Dan's voice and even muffled it sounded bashful.

"All right, he's gone," said Sally after a moment. "Laurie--"

"I don't know for sure," Laurie was horrified to find her voice as shaking. She was bewildered by her own response. When she had discussed the possibility with Walter, she hadn't minded -- was excited, even. But now, with her most likely pregnancy looming over her, she was left in a state of panic.

"Are you late?"

"Y-Yes."

"Have you taken a pregnancy test?"

"Yes, just now, and a doctor's test too, this morning."

"And both came out positive?"

"I haven't gotten the doctor's results yet."

"Does _he_ know?"

"You mean Walter?" Laurie corrected her, even in spite of her distressed state. "I haven't had a chance to talk to him."

"Keep it from him until you're sure."

"What?"

"First you need to decide if you're going to keep it," Sally told her. "Also, if you want him around--"

"Mom--"

"It's not too late to find a replacement. If you time it right, you could even fool some idiot into thinking it's his--"

"_Mother_." Laurie's eyes burned. "That's disgusting."

"Oh, Laurie," Sally's voice was a near whisper. "I'm just looking out for you, is all."

"No," Laurie shook her head furiously even though her mother couldn't see it. "Don't give me this poison, Mother. Not now."

"Well what am I supposed to do, Laurie?" Sally sounded truly exasperated. "You never give me anything. I can only work with what little information I have."

"I don't know," Laurie said. She wanted her mother to just stop talking to her. "I wish you could be a little more supportive."

"Fine," Sally's voice went cold. "I support you, Laurie."

Laurie frowned and felt worse, somehow.

"I support your decision to run off as you did, to go live with your father," Sally continued. "I support your relationship with your deadbeat cur of a boyfriend. I support--"

Laurie didn't realize that she had slammed the phone down until she wondered why her hand hurt and noticed she was still holding tightly to the receiver that was resting on the hook. She pried her hand away and made an exclamation of disgust as the phone started to ring. She unplugged the phone and stood near it while crying silently. Laurie struggled to compose herself and with a few shaking breaths calmed down enough to walk to her room with a clear head. Laurie hoped that Walter was awake now, but he was still sound asleep. Laurie watched Walter for a moment before she climbed into bed with him and pressed into his very warm body. His fever seemed to have lessened from before but was still present. Laurie sighed into Walter's shoulder and listened to his breathing. She closed her eyes and fell into a light sleep, waking promptly when she felt Walter stir next to her.

"Walter?" Laurie asked, as she rubbed her eyes. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, actually," he said, looking relatively bright eyed. Laurie glanced at the clock and was surprised to find that it was still afternoon. The conversation Laurie had with her mother seemed like on a different day.

Laurie climbed out of bed then put her hand on Walter's forehead, which seemed to be at a normal temperature.

"Wow," she said, "Your fever seems to be gone."

"I rarely get sick," he told her. "When I do, it never lasts long."

"Well, I still think you should rest, in any case," Laurie said with a forced smile. Walter gave her a sharp look.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately.

"I just had a bad conversation with my mother," Laurie told him as she dug into her eyes with the palms of her hands.

"What about?"

Laurie took her hands away and looked at Walter. She felt a stab of pain when she recalled her mother's words. Laurie climbed back into bed next to Walter and put her head on his shoulder.

"Laurie."

Laurie sighed deeply.

"I told her I might be pregnant," she admitted.

"Why on earth would you do that?" Walter asked in an astonished tone.

Laurie made a frustrated sound and pressed her face into Walter's neck.

"I was worried," she told him in a muffled voice. "I went out and got a home test. I was waiting for the result when Mother called. I was so shocked when I saw what it said that I ended up telling her."

"I see."

"I don't know Walter, the home tests are never a hundred percent accurate, are they? The doctor took some blood before he left the house -- he said he was going to let me know tomorrow."

"You seem upset."

"I _am_ upset, Walter. I could be pregnant. I probably _am_."

"Why?" he asked her in a soft voice. "I thought you said you wouldn't mind."

"I know," Laurie frowned. "But now I'm scared."

"Don't be. What is there to be scared of?"

Laurie looked into Walter's eyes.

"I guess, just... everything that could go wrong," she explained, finally.

"I'm not going to leave you if that's what you are afraid of."

"No," Laurie took Walter's hand and held it tightly. "I just mean... we're pretty young, aren't we? And this whole trouble with my mother. What about crime fighting? I wouldn't be able to go with you anymore."

"It will be all right, Laurie, don't worry."

Laurie tried to argue, but seeing Walter's calm expression, she couldn't help but relax a little.

"All right," she sighed. "Are you hungry? I'll make you dinner."

"I'm starving," Walter admitted. That made Laurie smile. She ruffled his hair and left him in the room to prepare dinner, then fed it to Walter in bed despite his initial protest.

"You are not going to get up for anything," she told him, and he didn't argue after that.

"How long are you going to make me stay here?" he asked her, after he had finished eating.

"Until you're better," she said. "Or at least for the rest of the day. Knowing you, you'll say you're fine even when you're on the brink of death."

"True," he agreed in a mild tone.

Laurie couldn't help but laugh. After she took care of the dishes, she returned to Walter's side on the bed and sat with him quietly for a while.

"Oh," Laurie suddenly said, as she remembered the night before. "Walter?"

"Yes dear."

Laurie paused to give Walter a smile.

"Do you remember anything about last night?" she asked him.

Walter raised his eyebrow.

"How can I not remember?" he asked, with a wink.

"Oh," Laurie laughed when she realized what Walter meant. "After that. After we'd fallen asleep. You woke up and told me something. Do you remember?"

Walter's brow furrowed and he didn't say anything for a few seconds.

"Oh, the picnic dream," he said, brightening.

"Yes," Laurie nodded. "You said something about a picnic. But do you know what else you said?"

"No."

"You said you finally knew," Laurie tapped her chin thoughtfully. "And you wouldn't tell me what it was."

"Oh." Walter frowned. "I don't remember."

Laurie sighed and lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. She felt Walter stroking her hair after a moment and when she heard him humming softly she smiled.

"Walter," Laurie asked. "If I am pregnant, would like like a boy or a girl?"

"Boy," he said, almost instantly. Laurie turned to give him an odd look and he shrugged. "I was thinking about it yesterday."

"Mm," Laurie smiled. "I have no preference, actually."

"Good." Walter lay down next to her and put his arm around her.

Laurie drifted off to sleep soon after, then woke up the next morning, a little surprised by the fact that she and Walter had both gone to bed with the lights on. She sat up and regarded Walter, who was getting dressed. She wondered when he had managed to bring in a change of clothes but didn't question it.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked him, gently.

"I'm going to work," he told her.

"And you think you're well enough to go?"

"Oh, yes."

Laurie sighed and shook her head, but she got out of bed and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. She heard the phone ring in the other room, then Walter answer it. He came in after a few moments and sat down. Laurie set down a plate in front of him and looked at him.

"Did you plug the phone back in?" she asked him.

"Yes," Walter said. "It rang almost immediately after I did. It was the doctor."

"Oh?" Laurie asked, suddenly having to find herself sit down too.

"You're not pregnant."

"Oh," Laurie put her face in her hands. "Wow."

Walter gave her a small smile and started to eat. Laurie took a few deep breaths before she looked up again, feeling immensely relieved. She retrieved her own plate and ate as well, and after breakfast walked Walter to the door.

"I'll see you later Walter," said Laurie, giving him a kiss.

Walter paused and frowned.

"What's wrong?" Laurie asked him, alarmed.

"I remember now what it is I finally know."

"What is it?"

"Who Agent Orange II is."

"Who?"

Walter told her.

"Are you sure?" Laurie asked, feeling queasy.

"I am pretty certain, yes."

"Are we going to look for him tonight?"

"Yes, I think we are going to have to."

Laurie nodded.

"All right," she said. "I'll try to get myself ready for that one."

Walter gave her a sad smile.

"You don't have to go," he told her.

"No," Laurie said, firmly, "I do. And I will."

Walter nodded, then left the house after another kiss. Laurie watched him leave and felt just a little disappointed. She couldn't figure out why.

-----

To be continued...


	64. Chapter 64

Ch. 64

Walter made a half-hearted attempt to convince Laurie to stay home. After all, what they were going to find with Agent Orange II was going to be far from pleasant, but she would have none of it. Walter was glad. He had been certain that she would stick with him, but he didn't like the idea of forcing her to do anything she didn't want to do. He had just wanted to be completely sure, otherwise the guilt would nag at him at a time when he needed his full attention. The realization of Agent Orange II's identity was not something that was easy for Water to swallow, and even now he could tell that Laurie wanted Walter to be wrong. He knew in some way, she was hoping that it was somebody else; a nobody they didn't know. Deep down, he agreed with her.

He had initially wanted to leave the moment the sun sank beyond the horizon, but he wanted to be there at the right time, before Agent Orange II went out for his evening duties. Rorschach and Nightshade left the house when it was still late afternoon, and Rorschach led her through a neighborhood they had never been through together. Rorschach hesitated for one moment outside of an apartment that he vaguely recalled -- it had been so long since he had been to it, and even then, only once -- and he glanced at Nightshade, who nodded reassuringly at him. He was grateful to have her there with him. For one moment, Rorschach couldn't decide whether or not to just knock on the door or kick it down. He decided on the latter.

The door easily burst under Rorschach's foot as if it were rotting from the inside. An explosion of hot, rank air greeted them even as they stood in the doorway. Rorschach had hated the stench of the place the previous time he had been here, but now it was nearly unbearable. Flies rose out and flew past them out the door, and Rorschach swayed. Nightshade steadied him with a firm hand and he shook himself awake from his semi-trance. He took one bold step forward, then another and then he was inside, with Nightshade close behind him. The room smelled of death and fear; of rotting garbage and even faintly of urine. The carpet was deeply stained and filthy, and all around were stacks of things barely recognizable -- here he spotted a collection of used plates and utensils, there he saw piles of yellowed newspapers, and everywhere else were various collections of trash, wrappers, discarded food, soiled clothes, and anything repulsive in between that one could think of.

For a moment Rorschach was certain that the filth was writhing with some sort of infestation, but he quickly realized that a male human form was rising up from it. The man turned to regard them with eyes that were almost lost amongst the grime that caked his face, hair and clothes. The hair on his head and face was dark but Rorschach knew that it wasn't his natural coloring. The only light source was from the open door behind them, and they brought in enough illumination to bring out the man's eyes -- even they looked darker now.

"Rorschach," said the man -- was he really a man anymore? -- as he turned and stumbled out from the refuse he had clearly been sleeping on top of. His clothing was heavy but durable. It was stained at places but still intact, however he also reeked of sweat and despair when he moved and Rorschach could feel Nightshade moving her hand to her mouth.

"Agent Orange?" Rorschach asked him, regretting a little that he hadn't bothered to distinguish between the original killer and his successor. Compared to this creature, Agent Orange was a saint. It was almost an insult to be compared to this creature.

The man laughed as if he didn't know how. It was more of a rumbling groan of pain than anything.

"Forgot that's what they call me now," he said, in a raspy voice that cracked from disuse. He rubbed at his nose, and Rorschach could see caked stains of blood under his nostrils that disappeared beneath his thick facial hair.

"Is it really him?" Nightshade asked Rorschach. She was practically hiding behind him, hands instinctively going to Rorschach's waist to brace herself.

Rorschach nodded, though he didn't look at her, afraid that Agent Orange II would use the opportunity to spring on them.

"Was hoping you would find me," said Agent Orange II.

"Never knew you for one who would play games," said Rorschach. He felt drained and morose -- the feeling overwhelmed any previous outrage or anger he had felt towards the killer.

"Didn't really mean to," Agent Orange II said in a voice full of desperation. "But you see things you can't look away from; pretty soon you know that is the only truth and how can you deny truth when it stares you in the face?"

"How," said Rorschach. "How did this happen?"

Agent Orange II laughed more properly this time, though it was utterly bitter.

"You think this happened over night? That I had some sort of epiphany one day and sank into this?" Agent Orange II's hands were grasping the air now, and Rorschach could see the sharp, dirty nails at the ends of his fingers. They looked like talons.

"This isn't like you," Rorschach told him. "Never knew you well, but I know this isn't you, Adrian."

Adrian's eyes went a little wider around the edges when he heard his name. For a moment he looked profoundly sad, then his face twitched and he sank back into madness once more.

"I am ruined," said Adrian, in a voice that wavered like that of a ghost. "Tried to find peace once more, but he has tainted the vision and there really is no other way."

"And which way is that?" Rorschach asked him softly.

Adrian gave him a fierce glare and for a moment Rorschach was sure he would attack him and braced himself. But Adrian only shook his head.

"You most of all," said Adrian with a shuddering cough. "Should know this."

"You killed innocent people," Rorschach told him. "Even Agent Orange didn't do that."

"Agent Orange," Adrian laughed. "Agent Orange just saw textbook crime and punished for it. What I saw -- it was more than black and white. I murdered those who _deserved_ it, Rorschach."

"It isn't up to you to decide who gets to die."

"Funny to hear you say that," said Adrian, laughing and weeping at the same time. "So funny, and he said you had so much potential."

Rorschach felt Nightshade's hand on his shoulder. He allowed himself a brief glance at her and let out a shuddering breath.

"You can't do this," Rorschach told him.

"All right, you win," Adrian said, then laughed when Rorschach flinched a little. "What did you expect, Rorschach? An epic battle against good and evil, a brief struggle as I attempt to get the upper ground before I plunge a knife deep into your back? Or perhaps you would take control of the situation and throw me out the window where I fall to a fitting death."

"Expected more of a fight from you," Rorschach admitted.

"What is the point?" Adrian shook his head. "There is nothing left. I have nothing."

"Hope. There is always that."

Adrian's shoulders shook as he sobbed.

"Oh, if there was enough left in my soul to benefit from it," he said. "But hope means nothing to me, Rorschach. Hope is left for those with dignity. Hope is for those who are still willing to live."

Rorschach surveyed the disgusting apartment and had to force himself to nod. Pride goeth before the fall; pride had long left this man.

"All right," Rorschach said, tasting something bitter in the back of his throat. "We're going to apprehend you, then."

"Oh yes, of course," Adrian threw his arms out as if Rorschach was going to handcuff him. "Ball and gag me, officer. Go right ahead."

Rorschach paused for a moment, marveling at how easy it was. Ever cautious, Rorschach tensed for a brief few seconds before he relaxed. Judging by the despair in Adrian's eyes, he had been waiting a long time for this.

"How long have you been out there?" Rorschach whispered to him as he approached Adrian.

Adrian just stared into the distance and Rorschach finally had to just tie his arms back with a length of rope. Rorschach grimaced at the smell that rose off of him but firmly gripped his forearms and led him down the stairs and out the building.

"It's all so clear now," Adrian said suddenly, and Rorschach flinched in vague recognition.

"What is?" Rorschach asked.

"The much grander scale of things -- oh, how foolishly I have acted," Adrian started to sob. "It could have been more. Could have done so much more."

Rorschach pushed him along, afraid that Adrian would collapse and he would have to carry him. Adrian let his head hang as he dribbled over himself while his choking cries blended into laughter. Rorschach led him to a more prominent area and waited as Nightshade called the police. Normally he would tie up criminals and leave them unless Nightshade said otherwise, but today Rorschach decided to wait; he was afraid that Adrian would disappear somehow despite his eagerness to be captured.

"What did you tell them?" Rorschach asked Nightshade as she returned.

"I just said that we had Agent Orange," Nightshade told him. She glanced nervously at Adrian as he stood in silence, head still dropping towards his chest.

It seemed if there was one person the NYPD was willing to drop everything to get to, it was definitely Agent Orange. The police sirens were soon screaming in the distance and coming closer at an alarmingly fast pace. To Rorschach it sounded like a thousand squad cars were approaching.

"Wait," Adrian said, his eyes wide with alarm as the sirens came closer. "I have a way to fix this."

Rorschach gave Adrian a silent stare.

"You get so wrapped up in details you never get the chance to take a step back and see how things could have been," Adrian told him. "If only given a chance, I could do so much more, Rorschach. Please."

"No more chances," Rorschach told him, and Adrian seemed to crumple under his words. He was reduced to nothing almost as quickly as he had recovered and hung limp as the police arrived.

Rorschach had hardly overestimated when he had guessed at the number of approaching cars. Around fifteen police cars peeled down the street and most of them parked hastily, some even on the curb. The sheer number of officers made Rorschach feel uneasy. Dozens of policemen climbed out of their vehicles, many of them already armed. One of them approached Rorschach, Nightshade and Adrian, cautiously but ahead of the rest. Rorschach recognized him as the officer who had handled the situation when he and Nightshade had turned in Big Figure. Was there only one competent officer in the entire city?

"Is that him?" the officer asked, as he approached them. He grimaced as he came closer. Response to the stench, most likely.

"This is Agent Orange," Rorschach confirmed.

"I am, oh I am," sobbed Adrian. "Take me to the gallows and let me hang for an eternity if you have to."

The officer gave Adrian a shocked look before he signaled for the others, who moved more quickly now, carefully walking up as if to a bomb. One officer took Adrian by the arm and handcuffed him when Rorschach released him from his bonds.

"You wouldn't hold it against me, would you?" Adrian asked, as he turned to Rorschach. His eyes were wide again, panicked and pleading. "You won't hate me for this?"

Rorschach choked on his words and couldn't find anything to say. Adrian looked defeated as he allowed himself to be taken away.

"Visit me," Adrian said. "When I'm in there, please. Visit me. I have nobody."

Rorschach couldn't bear to look even as Adrian disappeared from sight. The streets seemed silent and still, the still-flashing police lights looking eerie in the damp night air.

"I just hope he confesses as readily as he did when we take him to court," said the officer Rorschach had recognized.

"I'm certain that he will," Rorschach said, stiffly.

"I'm Captain Hurley," the officer held out his hand.

"Rorschach," he said, taking the offered hand tentatively.

"Yes, of course." The captain smiled. "I admire your work."

Rorschach took his hand back, surprised.

"You do?" he asked him suspiciously.

"Yeah, we all do," he gestured around to the officers around him. "Kind of jealous too sometimes. But if that's what it takes to clean up the streets, we don't mind too much, I guess."

Rorschach glanced at Nightshade, who was looking directly at him.

"I mean, you wouldn't believe the conditions we work in," said Hurley, laughing a little as if he was embarrassed. "But you guys do it for free. That's pretty noble."

"Thank you," Rorschach said, carefully.

"No, thank you," Captain Hurley gave him a small salute. "You did good tracking that madman down. This city thanks you."

Rorschach paused for a moment.

"No," Rorschach said. "They should thank us all."

Captain Hurley gave him a strange look.

"What do you mean?" he asked him.

"You and your people, and the two of us," Rorschach nodded. "That's how they do it in California. They work together, police and crime fighters."

"Is that so?"

Rorschach shrugged. In spite of it all, he still didn't enjoy talking to unfamiliar people. He shuffled his feet and looked at Nightshade, who stepped closer.

"Yes," she said, looking at Rorschach for a moment. "And when anybody asks, that's the story."

"But we hardly did anything," Hurley protested.

"Hey, if we're going to be helping each other out, we need to start big," Nightshade said. "What's bigger than Agent Orange?"

"Nothing much besides the war, I suppose." The captain took off his cap and scratched his head.

"Let's go," Rorschach quietly said to Nightshade, who nodded to him and took his arm.

"Thanks again," Hurley called after them as they started to leave. "You sure about this?"

Rorschach gave him a pointed look and said nothing more. He had said enough. It was up to him now, and though Rorschach wasn't entirely certain the cop would do the right thing, he had been willing to take the chance. It wasn't a completely charitable gesture towards the NYPD on his part, however. Knowing how Adrian had been one of them, Rorschach wasn't sure if he would have been able to handle him as well as a more impartial party had been able to. Rorschach felt his steps dragging as a strong image of Adrian's filthy apartment came to him.

Recalling Adrian's tormented visage, Rorschach felt ashamed. Ashamed that he hadn't been able to see it until it was too late, ashamed that Adrian had stooped to such a level as he did. Rorschach felt partly responsible; maybe if he had enough insight to deduce what had been happening, he could have prevented it, somehow. It wasn't just for the sake of those murdered people -- even though in the end Adrian still justified it as an adequate punishment. Even without taking the victims into consideration, just for the sake of the wretched man who had nothing in his life. On some level Rorschach could recognize a parallel in Adrian's life to that of his own from just a few years back. He had been alone with nobody too then, hadn't he? If Laurie hadn't been in his life, it could have been Rorschach himself who might have joined the crazy duo to make it a trio. No, no -- he couldn't do what they had done. He couldn't possibly imagine it; Adrian was weak and far too susceptible to any suggestions backed by logic. He never really liked Adrian, and he shouldn't forget that, despite the circumstances that led to Rorschach feeling so desperately sad for the man.

Rorschach let out a small pained sound and Nightshade pulled him closer to her. She held him as he tried to compose himself and collect his thoughts.

"It's a bitter end, isn't it," Rorschach told Nightshade. She nodded.

"I don't know what I was expecting," she told him. "But I guess I wanted it to be more satisfying in the end."

"The only satisfaction is in knowing that nobody will die in his hands tonight."

"I feel sick."

Rorschach nodded in agreement.

"Did we do something wrong?" Nightshade asked him, after a moment. "Maybe if we had approached it differently..."

"No," he told her firmly. "We didn't compromise. We caught him, gave him no chances despite where he used to stand with us."

"I just can't stop thinking of him as the man who had dinner with us," Nightshade shook her head. "You remember? When my mother was so awful and everyone was there? How can such a bright man fall so hard and so far?"

Rorschach said nothing, trying to remember the night that Nightshade had mentioned. Yes, it had all been so different then, hadn't it? Even then, the first Agent Orange had been just news, a faraway threat that Rorschach had shrugged off as another delinquent that needed to be taken care of. How eager Adrian had been to get rid of the man then. If only he had succeeded.

"I can't help but wonder if someone like that could sink to such a level, well..." Nightshade hesitated. "What does it take for us to become like that?"

"Having nothing," Rorschach said. "Having no hope."

Nightshade nodded reluctantly. She looked troubled and chewed at her lip.

"Are you going to visit him?" she asked.

"I don't know," Rorschach admitted. "But if I do, I know one thing for certain."

"And what is that?"

"I want you to go with me."

Nightshade smiled.

"Let's go home," she told him. Rorschach was grateful for that suggestion. Home would be a welcome distraction from this madness. He refused to let either Agent Orange get to him, though he knew both men would haunt his nightmares for many nights to come.

-----

To be continued...


	65. Chapter 65

Ch. 65

Laurie had been so occupied with the details of her move that she did not come to the realization until later that morning that this could be the last day she was going to spend in the house.

Of course she was still going to visit; she would have to frequently stop by to make sure the house was maintained while her father was away. But that was different from actually living there. Laurie was far from finished with her packing, but she was pretty sure that she was going to be sleeping in Walter's apartment from that day on, regardless of whether or not she would be ready to move by the night.

Two days had gone by since the incident with Agent Orange II. Two days, and Laurie had tried to distract herself with enough work to keep from thinking too much about prior events. That morning she had woken up and decided that she would surprise Walter by clearing out completely by that evening. He was at work, of course, and Laurie tried to concentrate on organizing her things and boxing them -- anything but Adrian, actually. It was too early to reflect on Adrian right now, but there she was thinking of him again. It was almost a relief when the phone rang, mostly because she knew it was a break from her thoughts, at least; though she struggled, her mind always returned to that cramped apartment with the awful smell and the man with the eyes that were no longer human. Still, Laurie approached the phone with some degree of trepidation. Welcome break or not, there was also the possibility that the caller could be her mother, and Laurie wasn't ready to deal with her either. When she finally answered, Laurie was happy for once that it was Dan, calling to tell her that she and Rorschach were in the newspaper. Captain Hurley had not failed to mention them, and from what Dan described, it was very complimentary. Hurley's precinct was getting a commendation, he read from the article. And also, the mayor was saying something about extending a thank-you to the vigilantes of the city. It was all very incredible, but even more so was was the way that Dan described Agent Orange II -- Adrian, his old partner -- as if he didn't know him. Laurie briefly wondered if she should pry, but decided not to in the end. If she was in the same situation as Dan and Dan had called to tell her about Rorschach being captured on charges of murder, Laurie knew she would not want to go into the details. Of course, she couldn't imagine anything short of her heart breaking if that had happened, but that thought at least did not surprise her -- she and Walter were quite different from Dan and Adrian, even without taking their romantic relationship into consideration.

Dan quickly moved on to other topics, as if he somehow knew where Laurie's thoughts had been lingering. Still shaken by the memories brought in by the mention of Agent Orange II, Laurie had to stand up. Feeling nervous, she began to rifle through her things once more, throwing out items she didn't need and keeping the rest. She murmured into the phone as Dan's voice droned on in the back until she found the old picture of the Crimebusters that Dan had given to her and Rorschach. Laurie marveled quietly to herself as she studied each subject's features intently; the picture seemed like it had been taken such a long time ago. Another time and place, lost in the shifting subtleties of interactions as relationships changed and deepened -- it was bittersweet to look at. With a wistful smile playing upon her lips, Laurie had placed the picture to her heart, briefly closing her eyes as she tried to recall that day. Letting out a small sigh, she glanced at the photo again, Rorschach in particular. She wished he had been unmasked for the picture (ridiculous idea, she knew); it surprised her when she observed that she didn't actually have a picture of Walter in her possession. She wondered if it was possible to convince him to take a nice picture with her, and giggled at the thought of him protesting and using that serious, indignant tone he used when he meant to start an argument. Dan inquired into her levity and once she explained, he gave her a cryptic message about showing her something. 'Oh, I have something to show you,' had been the exact wording -- he told her he was going to come visit her that day (once he found it) and ended their phone conversation.

Laurie paced for a moment before she gave up and went into the living room to sit down, waiting for Dan to stop by. He wasn't going to appear there that instant, of course, but with the prospect of his arrival and inevitable interruption to her work she suddenly found herself unable to do anything at all productive. Instead she allowed herself to reminisce, starting with the collection of photos on the mantelpiece. Laurie smiled as she recalled that first morning she had awakened in that very room, utterly dazed and confused. She remembered how upset she had been the night before that, gazing upon her mother's house when she had felt compelled to leave it. Her mother's house held so many more years of memories, yet this place was more important to her. Laurie stood up again and made a slow tour around the house. She studied each room carefully, trying to commit them to memory. She kept laughing at herself, knowing that she was acting as if this were her last chance, but she knew though the house would stay the same, her perspective could always change over night. If she returned here tomorrow she might be a different Laurie, trying to capture some of the magic of an old thought or feeling but unable to -- she wanted to prepare and make sure she could recall it with the familiar ease of any repeated task.

Dan had something to show her, she recalled. Laurie wondered what exactly it could have been. She took one last look into her father's room before she returned to the living room and sat on the couch again, waiting and listening, drawing in the scent of the room and the way the light pierced through the sheer white curtains and spilled inside.

Laurie watched the clock, her leg moving up and down in a nervous gesture. Wondering about what Dan was bringing for her made her worry a little. She worried about how much time this was going to take, that she should probably be looking through her things right now. She also wondered if she would be able to pack up by that night in turn and in the end worried so much that it was a detriment to her work. All she could do was wait helplessly until the doorbell rang, and when it did she jumped into action, flinging the door open and expecting to receive what Dan brought quickly before she sent him on his way again. Dan beamed down at her with an eagerness that made him look like a little boy; in his outstretched hand was a fat envelope of which the contents Laurie was pretty certain.

"When did you...?" Laurie started to ask, but her question trailed off as she opened the envelope and gazed inside, rendered speechless.

"Are you moving?" Dan inquired as he peered around her. Laurie politely stepped aside to let him study the small arrangement of boxes in the hall.

"Oh, yeah, to Walter's apartment," Laurie said, blushing a little.

"Good," Dan said, and for a moment he was looking at her expectantly as if she was going to tell him something. Laurie thought his eyes had gone to her hand, but the movement had been too subtle for her to tell. Laurie surmised that he was wordlessly trying to hint to her that he wanted her to continue looking through the envelope, so she did.

"Yeah, I'm pretty excited," Laurie told him as she pulled out the photos -- from the envelope, of course -- and carefully tucked the envelope under her arm as she flipped through them, one by one.

Laurie gazed at each picture in amusement, still wondering when Dan had managed to take these. She hadn't noticed Dan carrying a camera during their stay in California, but then, there were many things about Dan that went unnoticed by her so she wasn't too surprised. There was a picture of Nelly and Leland pausing to pose in what was probably the middle of a serious discussion. The next picture was of Nelly in the car with a map folded out and a crumpled and confused expression on his face to match -- he and Dan must have gone on a trip while Laurie and Walter were busy somewhere else. Laurie revealed the next picture: the room Dan and Walter shared, with the contents of their respective bags scattered about in a mess that was endearing to look at. Next came a picture of Laurie on the beach, waiting patiently while Walter applied sunscreen to her back. Laurie looked relatively pleased in the photo, though Walter beheld a sort of concentration on his face that gave the appearance of him solving a complex mathematical problem. The picture behind it was of Dan with a collection of crab cakes in front of him with his two thumbs up and sporting a bright sunburn. Next was Laurie and Walter on the couch; Laurie fast asleep with her head resting on Walter's shoulder while Walter stared disapprovingly into the camera as he peered over those notes of his that he had taken everywhere with him during their trip. A few cursory shots of various views of Huntington Beach followed, some of Walter and Laurie walking ahead through a tourist's area. There was even a picture of Blake standing on the balcony of his own room, posing with a huge grin as he held his cigar in front of him. The next photo had Walter standing with his arms folded next to Blake, who was purposefully making a bewildered expression and pointing his thumb at Walter. Laurie almost dropped the picture that came after that -- it was still a shot of Blake's room with her father and Walter, but slightly blurry. They still occupied their previous positions, but this time Blake was laughing while Walter was clearly moving away, a smug expression on his face and his hand slightly extended in a very subtle throw of his middle finger.

"What is _this_?" Laurie nearly screamed even as she gasped with laughter, remaining photos forgotten for now as she waved the photo in question at Dan.

"Haha," Dan said, as he squinted at the image. "I don't remember what it was to -- I think it was something about me taking too many pictures."

"It's hilarious," Laurie told him.

"You should have heard what he said to me," Dan laughed. "Actually, I don't exactly recall the wording, but..."

"I am framing this," Laurie exclaimed. "It needs to be bigger -- big enough to cover the entire mantelpiece. It deserves a place right in the middle of it."

"I don't think Walter would like that," Dan said, though he was laughing nevertheless.

"It's great," Laurie quickly searched through the rest of the photos. More scenery, and one shot of the crime fighters at the meeting that she and Walter had been unable to attend. Seeing these photos made her eyes sting with tears. "These are great, Dan."

"Glad you like them," he said, looking proud of himself.

Laurie briefly scanned through the pictures again, returning to her favorite one (the one of Blake and Walter, of course) and unable to truly concentrate on the rest. Dan hung around for a few moments longer, but he took one look around the room and told her that he would let her get back to her work and left. It seemed almost unnecessary, seeing as how Laurie was certainly not packing right now but looking at that one picture instead with rapt attention, a huge smile on her face. The photo was blurry and candid, but that was the best part about it. It had her two favorite people in the whole world, looking happy, cracking a joke and having a good time, and best of all -- enjoying each other's company. It was beautiful, and Laurie was in love with the picture; she loved Dan all the more for taking it.

After a moment Laurie finally set the pictures aside and reluctantly went to work packing again, though this time she was full of happy thoughts with Adrian far from her mind. She was actually a little disappointed when she had to stop a little while later when the phone rang once more. Laurie gave a small sigh, exasperated that she was interrupted; she had been close to finishing up. Shuffling her steps a little, she slowly reached the phone and picked up the receiver, hoping again that it was anyone but her mother.

"Hello?" she asked, vaguely noting how nervous she sounded.

"Guess what?" asked a familiar male voice.

"Dad," Laurie said, her free hand flying to her mouth in an attempt to cover it; impossible now that a huge grin had appeared on her face.

"No, that's the answer to 'guess who'," Blake told her.

"Dad, is the war over?" Laurie felt like crying. "Please tell me it's over."

"Well, I _was_ going to say it wasn't, but if you're going to ask like _that_--"

Laurie nearly screamed in her elation, but she came close to it.

"That's wonderful," Laurie shouted. "And are you all right? You're unhurt?"

"I think I might be deaf now," Blake joked. "You think they'll accept that as a war injury?"

"When are you coming back?" Laurie asked, her voice shaking as she jumped up and down.

"In a million years," he told her. "Well, seems like it, anyway -- they've been pissing fireworks into the sky for about five hours now. And of course, the president wants to make some speech and waste more time."

"Is Dr. Manhattan going to bring you back?"

"I'll see if I can talk to him, but if not, my flight leaves tomorrow."

"I hope he brings you here, otherwise it will take forever."

"Heh, it's better than not coming home at all."

"I'm so glad," Laurie said. "I really missed you, Dad."

"I missed you too," he replied. "You all right over there?"

"Yes, oh yes," Laurie smiled into the phone. "I'm moving in with Walter."

"You are? You haven't gone and eloped, have you?"

"No, Dad."

"Judging by the storybook ending I am guessing you've caught up with Agent Orange?"

"Yes," Laurie lost her smile.

"Hm," her father said, after a short pause. "Anti-climactic, was it?"

"Well, yes," Laurie laughed bitterly. "It turned out to be Ozymandias."

Blake let out a low whistle.

"Should have known," he said, without a hint of surprise in his voice. "I always thought the kid was weird."

Laurie nodded, not thinking of the fact that her father couldn't see it, and glanced at the clock. It was almost time for Walter to return, and she really needed him now. Her father was never a great conversationalist, especially not on the phone, and she knew he would be hanging up any time soon.

"All right kid," Blake said, as if he were made of clockwork and set to being predictible. "I better go. I'll see you in a week or less."

"Bye Dad." Laurie decided not to protest.

"Uh," he paused a little awkwardly. "I love you."

"I love you too," Laurie smiled and hung up the phone.

Laurie's heart was beating fast -- she couldn't believe the war was over in such a short amount of time. Of course, with someone like Dr. Manhattan fighting on their side, why wouldn't it be? She had seen first-hand what he could do to a person; she wondered if there were any of their enemies left to even surrender or if he had just vaporized the entire country while he was out there. Whatever it was, Laurie didn't want to know. Laurie sighed a little, putting her head in her hands for a moment as if in supplication -- though to what, she had no idea. Laurie's heart leaped into her throat when she heard the front door open.

"The door is left unlocked yet again," Walter pointed out to her. Laurie ignored his comment and nearly threw him backwards with a fierce hug.

"I'm so glad you're home," Laurie exclaimed as she attacked him with a kiss to match her hold on him.

"You are?" Walter's voice belied just the slightest hint of astonishment.

"The war's over, Walter," Laurie told him. "Dad's going to be back soon."

"That's wonderful news," Walter said as he squeezed her, but he gave her a sharp look after a quick glance around him. "But are we celebrating with a parade of boxes in the hall?"

"Walter," Laurie admonished, "Did you wake up ornery or did just you decide to be during the course of the day?"

"I was born ornery, thank you very much," said Walter. He closed the door behind him and danced further into the house with a grim expression on his face. Laurie laughed.

"I'm all packed," she told him. "Well, I still need to box up some things in the bathroom, but that's it."

"Oh," said Walter, brightening. "Very good."

"I thought we could move some necessary things over to your apartment then patrol afterwards. Then, while you're at work tomorrow I can move the rest over to the apartment by myself."

"An excellent plan, though I am certain there is at least one detriment to it and thus ultimately to the proper functioning in our day to day lives," said Walter.

"What?" Laurie giggled at him.

"I'm hungry."

Laurie tossed a cushion at Walter and walked towards the kitchen. Walter took the envelope Dan had left behind and started to shuffle through its contents as he followed her.

"Dan's pictures?" Walter asked.

"Oh yes," Laurie turned and peered down at his hands. "I especially like this one."

Laurie showed him her favorite photo.

"I think we should frame it," Laurie told Walter in a teasing manner.

"No," said Walter. "I think you should send it to your mother as a gift."

They both laughed a bit too much at that idea. After dinner, they discussed which boxes would be going with them that night. Walter helped stack the boxes that Laurie pointed out to him. As they made a quick sweep around the hall, Laurie had to pause when a thought came to her.

"I suppose I should tell my mother where I'm going to be staying from now on," Laurie frowned.

"No," Walter told her as he grunted with the effort of moving three boxes at once. "Never tell her anything ever again."

Laurie laughed.

"You make it sound so easy," she told him. Walter somehow managed to shrug at her while keeping a hold on the boxes.

Walter and Laurie used a dolly to wheel her possessions to his apartment. Laurie was glad that she didn't have very many things to begin with, but walking to Walter's at the slow pace took up more time than she had originally estimated. When they made it up to Walter's apartment, it was already well into night, and too late to go out even to patrol. Walter neatly set the boxes in a row next to the hallway, and the dolly by the door. Laurie took Walter's hand as they looked into the room. Laurie hadn't brought much with her, but already the apartment looked overstuffed.

"We really need a bigger place," Walter told her with a little frown.

"This will do for now; don't worry too much," Laurie assured him.

Walter turned and regarded her for a long moment.

"Are we staying here tonight?" he asked her.

"Yeah," Laurie nodded. "I'm tired."

"All right," Walter said. "Less than ideal, but I have no choice now."

"To go to bed?" Laurie asked him, bewildered. Walter disappeared around the corner towards his room so Laurie waited for him.

Walter re-emerged a moment later, looking mysteriously pleased.

"What?" Laurie asked with a smile.

"Oh, you'll see," he told her, as he took her hand in his. He studied it as if he had never seen it before, and when he gave her a gentle kiss across the knuckles, Laurie couldn't help but shiver.

"Walter," Laurie said in a soft voice as she stepped closer to him. Walter withheld his intense expression for a moment to lean in and kiss her lips.

"You will stay with me indefinitely, won't you?" he whispered in her ear. "Regardless of where we live in the end."

"Of course," Laurie whispered in return. "As long as you want me."

"Forever."

Laurie closed her eyes as Walter drew her to him. She could hear him taking a deep breath as he buried his face in her hair. His hands were on the back of her arms, rubbing them slightly until she shivered again.

"What is it, Walter?" Laurie asked him once more. There was something hanging in the air, and Laurie thought that she might die from the anticipation.

"Hm," was Walter's only reply. He pulled away to regard her once more as if she were a puzzle to be solved. "Hm, hm."

"Please?" Laurie offered.

"I was thinking," Walter said, with a finger tapping his chin.

"Yes?" Laurie insisted, pulling his hand away from his face and placing it on the small of her back.

"Now that I have you trapped in here," he said, as his hands clasped her waist, "I am going to have to demand that you marry me."

Laurie laughed.

"Well, if you're going to _demand_ it," she said, "I really have no choice, do I?"

"Good." Walter handed her a ring. Laurie had to admit that she was surprised. Walter had voiced his intentions to her long before this, of course, but there was a big difference between words and actions. She should know better than that by now -- Walter wasn't one to speak lightly of things.

Laurie gave Walter a smile as she took the ring from him, though her hand was trembling. Laurie took a shuddering breath and let the ring lay in her palm as she studied it. The ring could have been silver or even white gold, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the small pearl that rested in the middle of the simple band. The pearl itself gleamed when it hit the light -- it had been intricately carved into symmetrical shapes. The pearl held an even smaller dark pearl inside it somehow, and the contrasting colors brought out the pattern; it was very reminiscent of Rorschach's mask.

"Where did you find this?" she asked him.

"Dan made it, under my specifications," Walter told her as he slipped the ring on her finger. He smiled when it fit perfectly. "I hope you like it."

"I love it, Walter," Laurie said, as she took his face in her hands and kissed it. Walter gave her a smile, his flushed cheeks making him look almost bashful.

"So glad," he told her as his lips brushed against her ear. "Perfect."

-----

To be continued...

-----

Author's Note: I would like to thank Silvergrin for reminding me that Walter would probably go for the more non-traditional ring (she had also suggested Dan as someone who might be able to make something for them)... We actually had this conversation about a billion years ago, but it took this long to finally get to it. I thought maybe Walter might not even go for a ring but something else, but that was what he decided on in the end. I suppose I should have more faith in Walter, too. I'm quite glad with the result! :)


	66. Chapter 66

Ch. 66

The satisfaction of the previous night's successful proposal had barely had time to sink in before Walter became distressed yet again. He knew Laurie had acted for the best, but he couldn't help but panic at the decision she had made while he was at work. He knew he was just fearing the worst, but there was no stopping the feeling of dread that grew in the pit of his stomach with each footstep he took as he paced in the small space of his apartment. Laurie watched him silently for a few minutes before she finally intervened. She firmly took him by the hand and pushed him onto the couch and joined him with her arms around his shoulders.

"Why did you have to call him?" Walter asked her, knowing the answer already but all the while staring into her eyes with a mournful expression that was bound to make her feel guilty.

"Walter, it's not the end of the world," Laurie told him as she stroked his hair. Walter paused to enjoy the sensation; he especially liked it when she did that, though any touch from her was naturally welcome.

Walter allowed Laurie to comfort him, feeling a little too content at the moment to really care about Sam Petersen. Only one day had gone by since Laurie officially moved in with him, but it felt like they had gotten married instead. Having Laurie in his bed at night and expecting her there when he came home wasn't anything new to him, but the knowledge of this arrangement being long-term filled Walter with no small amount of joy. They had only just barely gotten engaged, but to Walter it was as secure as actually being married. Laurie seemed to have had the same idea, as she took it upon herself to call Mr. Petersen's son while Walter had been at work. She told him that it was the natural thing to do after being fully moved in and packed with no tasks left to accomplish but the one she had in her hand in the shape of a small business card she had found while cleaning out the remaining boxes. Laurie had agreed to meet with Sam Petersen at a nearby diner that very evening, and though Walter hated the very idea, he loved her terribly at the same time for doing what she did.

Walter had complained, of course, but it was futile as the appointment had already been set. So they waited instead, and though it was a mere couple of hours after Walter had returned and learned of the news, to him it was an eternity. An eternity in Laurie's arms was better than anything he could think of, so he tried not to express too much disapproval. He quickly quieted himself after making a few expected complaints. He only gripped Laurie's hand tighter the closer they got to the hour, and she played the part of his life jacket when they went down the street to the diner; his breaths were shallow and he felt as if his heart would burst in his chest, but Laurie glanced at him reassuringly and he tried not to let his paranoia win over as they stepped into the diner together. Sam Petersen was there already, much to Walter's chagrin -- he had wanted to delay the inevitable, though that would only mean it would prolong his agony. All right, maybe he was a little bit of a masochist at times, but resolving this was like pulling teeth to him.

"Good, you're finally here," said Sam Petersen as he gestured for them to sit down. "I ordered for us; hope you don't mind."

Walter and Laurie barely had any time to answer or sit down when a waitress arrived with their food -- pancakes.

"Can never really go wrong with breakfast," Sam laughed. "But, before we dig in... to business."

Sam Petersen reached down and pulled out a file, and from the file, some papers. Walter stared at the pancakes and wished he could vomit over them and ruin the dinner for everyone else. Instead he pushed his plate away and turned his attention to Mr. Petersen's son.

"Look," Sam began, as he handed Walter the papers. "I've had a lot of time to think about this arrangement, and I'll just say to you that I think I've been acting like a real jackass over it, and if you've noticed I apologize."

Walter barely heard the man's words as he read the text before him, then reread it again as he did not trust what his eyes were showing him.

"Kind of made me bitter, initially," Sam continued, "But you know, I hadn't seen my old man since I moved out, and that was over thirty years ago. What do I expect him to do for me, you know?"

"He left me his shop?" Walter asked in disbelief.

"Who cares about the shop," Sam sounded exasperated. "You're skipping the important part -- did you see how much money he left you? Must have been real close."

Walter relinquished the papers to Laurie and he watched her as she read them, the smile on her face growing wider. His forehead felt hot and he desperately wished he could rest it on her shoulder.

"Walter," she said, taking his hand when she had finished. Walter stared at their hands as if he didn't understand the gesture.

"There's the contract, lease, everything," Sam pointed. "And the will. You can read it, of course. No funny business here. Eh, I'm not that bitter, really. He left me the house, at least. You seem like a good kid -- well, both of you do."

Laurie and Walter looked at each other.

"Well?" asked Sam. "You gonna read the contract, or what?"

"Oh, yes," said Walter, taking it. Laurie read it over his shoulder -- it was legitimate, of course, but Walter could still hardly believe it.

"All right, just sign there," said Sam. "And a lawyer will call you."

Sam picked up his fork.

"Pancake time," he told them. Walter and Laurie just watched him eat the food on his own plate, leaving the others untouched, even though Walter and Laurie made no move to eat from them. Walter couldn't guess if he even remembered how to eat anymore.

"You can probably look into setting up the shop as early as tomorrow," Sam said as he reached for the bill. "Talk to the lawyer about the money, of course, but the shop's been left as is since Pop's death. I'm guessing you have the keys and everything, but no one's going to care if you go in there and start today, even."

"Thank you," Walter managed to say.

"You kidding?" Sam laughed. "Didn't do anything but bear the message. Lawyer would have found you eventually, anyhow. But if it makes you feel better, I suppose I can give you a tart welcome on Pop's behalf."

Sam stood up and gathered his belongings before he winked at them, dealing out money for the bill and tip as if they were poker cards.

"Don't spend it all at once, ya hear?"

Walter and Laurie gazed after the man as he left the diner. It wasn't until the waitress showed up half an hour later and gave them a dirty look that they finally made their own way back home. Once inside, they sat side by side on the couch, not saying a word. Walter wasn't sure what to do or say, but he needn't have bothered to rack his brains for an answer. Laurie made the first move -- it was her hand on Walter's thigh -- there wasn't any question on what they would do after that.

"What are you going to do with the shop?" Laurie asked Walter as they lay in bed that night.

"Run it?" Walter laughed. He hadn't had much time to wrap his mind over the idea, but suddenly in the afterglow it was a much more pleasing thought than it initially had seemed to be. The shock of the sudden information had worn off and he had finally moved out of his state of worry, and he could only be happy for his future.

"I figured as much Walter," Laurie rubbed his chest in an affectionate manner. "I mean -- are you going to keep it as it is?"

"Probably," Walter said. "Maybe expand eventually, but it's fine as it is."

"You should make a women's section," Laurie said, as she rolled over to look at him.

"Oh goodness no," said Walter, laughing. "I'm done measuring women."

"I was thinking that maybe I could measure them."

Walter paused for a moment.

"You want to work in the shop?" he asked her, incredulously. His brain was finally starting to catch up with the past hour, and he had to struggle to process the conversation.

"Only if you want..."

"Yes."

Laurie smiled at him.

"Good," she said with a kiss. "I'm glad."

"I still can't believe he gave me the shop," Walter told her softly, as allowed his eyes to close.

"I can," Laurie's hand was still on his chest, and she let her finger draw a lazy pattern on his skin, making Walter's eyes flutter open again. "You yourself said that he wasn't very close with his relatives."

"True, but..." Walter paused for a moment. He felt that he didn't entirely deserve such a big gift, and that wasn't even counting the money that Mr. Petersen had left him. How to formulate all this into words, however? All of a sudden his argument just didn't seem to matter so much anymore.

"Walter, if you think it was a mistake that he gave you all this, don't even continue in that line of thought," Laurie told him. How did she know?

"It's just that--" Walter had to at least try to pretend he was going to argue with her.

"No." Laurie laughed. "Are you kidding? You deserve it -- well, I think, at least. And I'm sure Mr. Petersen saw it the same way as I do."

Walter finally gave her a tired smile.

"If you say so," he relented. He didn't have time to enjoy the surprised look she had on her face before he drifted off to sleep.

Walter was up bright and early the next day, cheery mood matching the beautiful morning as he practically skipped to Mr. Greer's shop. Walter informed his employer of his situation and plans as concisely as he possibly could, and Mr. Greer's initially bewildered expression melted into one of genuine good will as Walter explained to him why he would no longer be able to work for him. Walter was surprised to realize just how fond Mr. Greer had been of Walter. It seemed quite obvious now, and he thought it was odd that he had never noticed. The older man gave Walter quite a few pats on the back and sent him on his way; Walter stopped at a payphone to call Laurie. He told her to meet him at the shop, then he stopped at a shop to pick up a bouquet of roses to give her, feeling a silly all the while doing it, as it was really for no particular reason. It wasn't until he saw the pleased look on her face when he gave them to her that he remembered why he did these things. He wanted so much to be distracted by her right now, but even Walter -- far from Rorschach's bidding -- had to admit that wasn't the ideal way to spend an afternoon when he could be busy reopening the shop. Laurie seemed only eager to help him set up, greeting the customers as they eventually entered. Walter was grateful for Laurie's presence once more when she cordially and patiently explained to each person who stopped by what had happened to Mr. Petersen, and even managed to mention their future plans for the shop. Walter didn't think he would have been able to handle it quite as nicely as she had. If it had been up to Walter, he would have put up a sign saying, 'Mr. Petersen dead. Under new management' and left it at that. Walter chuckled darkly at the idea and only gave Laurie a knowing look when she glanced curiously in his direction.

By the next day, Walter felt his life had returned to normal. Back in his beloved shop, he had to admit just how much he had missed working there. With Laurie there to help him, it felt as if they had been that way for years. Walter couldn't remember if the shop had ever been this popular. It certainly seemed the case as a steady stream of people came in and out of the shop. It wasn't until Dan showed up that Walter suspected that something was going on. Judging by the look on his face, Dan seemed to have known that the shop was open beforehand.

"Word certainly travels fast," Walter told Dan. "How did you know the shop was open?"

"I heard it from Hollis," Dan explained. "He heard it from a friend who heard it from Mr. Greer."

"What a gossip," Walter joked, and Dan and Laurie laughed with him.

"Remind me to order a suit or two from you," Dan told him. "Judging from the word on the street, you sell some nice material here."

"Same source says you're not so bad at making rings yourself," Walter said in an amused tone. Dan brightened and looked in Laurie's direction and she waved her left hand at him.

"You finally asked her," Dan said happily. "I'm glad. When are you getting married?"

"Within the year," Walter said.

"Well, I hope I'm invited to the wedding."

"Of course," Walter and Laurie said in unison. Walter couldn't tell who was more startled, him, Laurie, or Dan. Even given how close the three of them had gotten over the past year, the fact of it still seemed to surprise them once in a while.

"Hey," Dan looked as if he had just now remembered something. "If you'll allow me to direct the conversation topic elsewhere to more criminal matters... Guess who's back in town?"

"God, I hope it isn't Captain Carnage," Laurie moaned.

"No," Dan adjusted his glasses. "I forgot about that guy, as a matter of fact. It's Moloch, actually."

"Really?" Laurie looked surprised. "Just now?"

"Yeah -- well, I think he must have come back a little after word got 'round that the Comedian was off the docks."

"Of course," Laurie said with a nod.

"But I guess, with the whole Agent Orange business going on he took his own setup and hid it even better than he usually would. I just happened across a source who gave me some information on him."

"A source, eh?" Walter teased him.

"Uh, yeah," Dan blushed furiously. "Anyway, I thought maybe you guys might be interested in going with me to investigate."

"Without a doubt," Walter told him. Dan gave them a quick nod.

"It's settled then," Dan said, excitement apparent in his voice. "Tonight?"

"Yes."

Dan nodded again and they settled down to discuss a few things of a more trivial nature before he left the shop. At the end of the day, Walter closed up and returned home with Laurie.

"We should start looking for a better apartment," Walter told her as they entered through the door. Even the doorway seemed smaller to him now.

"I was thinking," Laurie paused and looked at him. "Maybe we could wait a little?"

"For what?" he asked her as he gave her a puzzled glance.

"I thought maybe we could look for a house," Laurie said as she put her arms around Walter for a brief hug before she turned and started to search through a box for essential parts to her costume. "We could start looking for one now, and just move in when we get married -- but stay here until then."

Walter nodded thoughtfully. He kept forgetting about the money Mr. Petersen had left him. It wasn't much -- the old man had not been rich -- but even meager savings added up over the years, and it was certainly more than Walter had managed to save before. He was still trying to get used to the idea, and of course, it had slipped his mind until that moment.

"All right," he told her, carefully. "We'll look at our options starting this weekend."

"Oh," said Laurie, looking surprised. "Does that mean you're going to have Saturdays off now?"

"No," Walter watched Laurie with fascination as she slipped out of her clothes and started tugging on her costume. "Just this Saturday."

"Sounds good to me," Laurie smiled at him, and Walter had to snap himself out of his reverie. He started to look for his own clothes and tried not to stare too much.

Fully attired now, Laurie sighed as she looked at her gloved hands.

"It seems almost a shame to have to take off the ring to put on the gloves," Laurie told him as she showed him her hands. "I'm afraid that I might break it somehow during a fight."

Walter nodded to her as he pulled on his pants.

"I know it's ridiculous," said Laurie, "I mean, how many people are going to pay attention -- but I wish I had something else that indicated that I was engaged to you, Walter."

Walter smiled a little but said nothing. He buttoned up his jacket and threw on his coat before he put on his own gloves, all the while studying Laurie's costume.

"Hurm," he said to her, as he put on his mask. He took the scarf from around his neck and placed it around Laurie's, tying it carefully and arranging it in a way that he liked to wear it. He stepped back and looked at her for a moment before he nodded to himself and placed his hat on his head.

Laurie smiled down at the scarf.

"I love it," she said, "Though I just hope nobody tries to use it as leverage to choke me."

"Don't worry," he told her in a mild tone. "I would break their fingers."

Rorschach felt pleased when she laughed. They playfully nudged each other as they left the apartment, checking themselves as they emerged out of the building and into the night. They stood under the evening sky for a moment, side by side. They surveyed the area as Rorschach got into the necessary frame of mind. He was a little excited -- after all, Moloch was a man the Comedian himself had been tracking for most of his life. At the same time he had a strong feeling that they would capture Moloch soon. He was quite positive, in fact. With his partner with him, he was certain of most anything now.

"Back to business," Rorschach told Nightshade politely.

Nightshade gave him a knowing smile, and even as they moved to patrol he couldn't help but smile in return. These days, he didn't have to wonder if she could see it -- he was pretty sure she knew.

-----

--End.

-----

Author's Note: Vaudeville needs thanks on this chapter for coming up with an idea that Rorschach would give Laurie something that would tell everyone -- "MINE". She suggested it about a billion chapters ago, however... and I'm finally getting around to putting it in. We couldn't decide at the time what exactly this thing would be, so thanks to my roommate for coming up with the scarf idea. Thanks, guys!

And finally, we are here at the end. Can you believe it?? Thanks go out to:

Vaudeville -- My first reviewer! Thank you so much for the ideas and support. I thank the fic too because it made us friends. (How many times can I use the word 'thank'!?)

MK08 -- Your supportive comments really helped me out. And of course, your own RxSSII fic. You need to write more!

Agent l Gecko -- You were suspicious of Adrian all along... Good job! LOL

Chargeable -- I enjoyed our conversations! Thanks for making the journey easier!

Queenofhearts214 -- I had a lot of fun discussing the fanfic with you. :) Thank you for being there!

Special thanks also to ColorOfInfinity, Temeti, Kairan1979, Riot-Angel, fEmAleNoMad, atheneblue, and SkarletK... I would also like to thank everyone who has taken the time to review my fanfic. It really helped motivate me to stick to the end. Thanks again, everyone!

I really enjoyed writing this story, and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. It was a crazy ride -- can you imagine that I had initially intended for this fic to only have a few chapters?? That idea seems ridiculous now. Of course, along with that thought, I was pretty sure that I was going to write up to 1985. This was before all the dramatic changes happened in my story. Now you know what goes on when you let the characters run wild... Suffice to say, it was a difficult process and I still don't feel like I'm done. I'm planning on going back for a full edit -- nothing drastic, but just a few details (like dialogue, for instance) that need to be tweaked. As for what would have happened next, I don't know yet if I have anything left to write a sequel of some sorts, but maybe if Walter nags me long enough, or if you guys really want one, I might. Also, I really want to write a Comedian story, so I'm might turn my attention to him for a while. If Walter and Laurie bother me enough, maybe I'll write another little something for them. I do have another alternate AU reality for them planned, but I'm going to try to work out the details before I start writing. You know what, though? After one and a half months of straight almost non-stop writing and planning, I'm exhausted. Time for a break! I hope you guys keep the look out for anything I write in the future. Someone mentioned fanart in one of my reviews, so I will set up a deviantart account soon with some of that. You can check out my profile for updates on that. And of course -- again, thank you so much, everybody for reading. I really appreciate the time you guys took to read my story and comment. Thanks, you guys!


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